


And We'll Be Running

by allyasavedtheday



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: (but not as slow as the books lmao), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slow Build, Touring, band au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-12 15:44:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 62,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7940155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allyasavedtheday/pseuds/allyasavedtheday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been six months ago when Kevin called him, sounding drunk off his ass and on the verge of a breakdown, begging Neil for help. Andrew Minyard, guitarist for The Monsters, had been assaulted by his old foster brother and it finally convinced the courts to take him off the mood altering medication he’d been taking since almost two years prior after an incident where he’d defended his cousin from a bunch of homophobic assholes outside a club.</p><p>At the time, he’d had nothing else going for him so he said yes. It was just meant to be something to do for a few months. Now, well, he doesn’t really want to leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ahhhh ok so welcome to this monster!!! it'll be about 60k overall and I'm almost completely finished writing so i'm hoping to have it posted in its entirety by the end of next week!
> 
> A few lil housecleaning things: andrew's past is a little different in that he _didn't_ kill tilda so his deal with aaron isn't quite so stringent and Proust is Not a thing that happens at Easthaven. He gets proper care for the duration of his stay. Everything else in regards to their pasts is either the same as the books or will be explained.
> 
> If you feel like things between andrew and neil happen a little bit quicker in this fic,remember they're meeting under entirely different circumstances (including their ages, andrew's length of time in therapy etc) than they do in the books so this fic reflects that. But hopefully the pace is still a comfortable one :')
> 
> I've appropriated a few pre-existing songs to use as the band's songs in the story but when they come up i'll be sure to link you guys and give you the song titles (i blame troye sivan for always hiring blonds in his music vids tbh)
> 
> If you're looking for me on tumblr you can find me at [ littlespooneven](http://littlespooneven.tumblr.com/) :') also you can find the tumblr post for this fic [here](http://littlespooneven.tumblr.com/post/149853922637/and-well-be-running-pairing-neil-jostenandrew)
> 
> Finally the title comes from Young Gods by Halsey and the characters all belong to Nora Sakavic
> 
> **Edit: this fic now has a playlist which you can listen to [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/ciaraboo_/playlist/4CFWvz9hZgsYCLl9iZphWr)
> 
> So without further ado, enjoy <3

Neil is lying on the couch in the recording studio, idly strumming the strings of his guitar, when he first hears the news.

Nicky knocks on the open door before stepping into the room, expression much more sombre than what Neil is used to. But then he speaks and suddenly it makes sense.

“Andrew is getting out of rehab today.”

Neil stops playing and sits up, setting his guitar down off to the side and turning fully to face Nicky.

Andrew isn’t supposed to be out of Easthaven until next week, exactly two months before The Monsters are meant to begin the American leg of their world tour: The Foxhole Court tour. It’s also when Neil is officially meant to bow out and leave the group.

It had been six months ago when Kevin called him, sounding drunk off his ass and on the verge of a breakdown, begging Neil for help. Andrew Minyard, guitarist for The Monsters, had been assaulted by his old foster brother and it finally convinced the courts to take him off the mood altering medication he’d been taking since almost two years prior after an incident where he’d defended his cousin from a bunch of homophobic assholes outside a club.

The Monsters had been about to start a press tour for their new album, Perimeter Road, and were now down one member.

Neil, who hadn’t heard from Kevin since high school when their own four-piece band with Riko Moriyama and Jean Moreau had parted ways, was hitch-hiking his way from California to Arizona when he got the call and had been stunned, to say the least.

The next day he’d been put on plane to South Carolina and contracts were put in front of his face saying he would be The Monsters’ stand in guitarist while Andrew recovered.

At the time, he’d had nothing else going for him so he said yes. It was just meant to be something to do for a few months. Now, well, he doesn’t really want to leave.

“I thought he wasn’t getting out until next week,” Neil says, mostly to hide the fact that his world feels like it just caved in on itself. He’s supposed to have one more week. Just one more week before he goes back to wandering aimlessly from city to city trying to find something to make life feel worthwhile again.

Nicky shrugs; the expression on his face is halfway between a smile and a wince. “Doctors messed up the schedule apparently. Bee thinks he’s ready though.”

Neil nods; he’s met Andrew’s therapist a few times but he’s usually steered clear of the woman. The laundry list of shrinks he cycled through during his high school years after his mother’s death and his father’s imprisonment made him somewhat reticent to trust anyone like her.

“Aaron’s arranging flights for the three of us now, do you wanna come with?”

The question takes Neil by surprise. For all the time he’s spent around Andrew’s family and filled his shoes, he’s never actually met the man himself.

Kevin had called him the night Andrew checked into Easthaven and he was already under isolation by the time Neil arrived in South Carolina. Nicky, Aaron and Kevin have all made brief but frequent trips in the past couple of months once he was allowed visitors again just to check in on him but Neil has never joined them.

It’s strange how he’s been essentially living Andrew’s life for the past several months and yet the two have never crossed paths.

He doesn’t know what possesses him to say it but he finds himself agreeing. “Okay,” he replies, voice sounding distant to his own ears.

The worried expression Nicky’s been wearing since he entered the room finally dissolves as his face lights up in a taken aback grin. “Really?”

“Sure,” Neil answers, knowing in his head that he’s not really doing this because he wants to meet Andrew. He’s doing this because he wants to cling onto this life just a little bit longer. “It’s pretty weird we haven’t met yet, might as well hand back over the reins in person.”

Nicky’s smile, impossibly, widens as he fumbles to get his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll tell Aaron to book you a flight!”

With that, he’s gone; darting back out the door in search of his cousin, phone already pressed to his ear. As soon as his babbling voice disappears down the hallway Neil deflates, releasing the enormous breath he’d held in in an attempt to keep himself together while talking to Nicky. He sinks back against the couch cushions, elbows on his knees and knuckles digging into his forehead while he tries to stave off his mounting panic.

He’s been running for years. Running since he was eighteen and graduating high school with nothing more than a dead mother and convicted father to show for it. Running from Riko and his uncle’s offer of a record deal because no matter how sweet the deal had sounded, nothing could’ve convinced Neil of the Moriyamas’ good intentions after he watched Riko destroy Kevin’s left hand, effectively stopping him from playing piano and putting him through months of rehab, because people in school had started to say Kevin was the real standout star in the band.

He’s been running for years but Kevin’s phone call six months ago had been the first time he got to stop.

He doesn’t want to start again.

* * *

 

The plane ride is a quiet affair and ends up being carried out in a private jet since no one wants the press to find out about Andrew’s release yet. The only people on board are Aaron, Nicky, Kevin, Neil, Andrew’s shrink Betsy and the band’s manager David Wymack.

Wymack and Bee are talking quietly between themselves while Nicky talks Aaron’s ear off in the row behind Neil and Kevin. Neil knows it’s mostly out of nervousness rather than because he actually has anything to say. Aaron must know too because he doesn’t snap at Nicky to shut up like he normally would.

Kevin is quiet beside Neil, reading a book about ancient Rome and appearing mostly relaxed except for the fact that he’s been jiggling his knee for forty-five minutes and that the clear liquid in his cup is actually vodka, not water.

Neil, for his part, is content with staring out the window, somewhat thankful the cloud cover blocks the ground from view. He’s been cycling between detached and pushing down a panic attack ever since Nicky came into the studio this morning.

He’s not ready to deal with the complicated series of emotions that comes with leaving The Monsters just yet so he’s been mostly trying to shut that part of his brain down.

When they’re ten minutes from landing Kevin closes his book and speaks to Neil for the first time during the whole flight. “Does Andrew know you’re coming?”

Neil tears his eyes away from the window and shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t know who’s been in contact with him since this morning.”

Kevin nods, eyeing his plastic cup of vodka for a moment before downing the remnants of it.

“Is he really that bad sober?” Neil asks sceptically, watching Kevin crush the cup in his fist.

“Not bad,” Kevin corrects. “Just…less.”

“Less what?”

A wrinkle appears between Kevin’s eyebrows as he thinks. Neil doesn’t think he realises he’s still squeezing the cup.

“Just less,” Kevin says eventually. “The pills fucked with his emotions; now I’m not even sure he can feel anything anymore. He won’t be like the Andrew you’ve seen in interviews.”

Neil scoffs, “Like I ever watched your interviews, Day.”

Kevin rolls his eyes, turning back to his book with a muttered, “You’ll see.”

As the plane begins its descent Neil wonders if Andrew can still make music, or if the pills fucked with that too.

* * *

 

Easthaven rehabilitation facility is distressingly clean, the waiting room is cold and clinical and Neil feels uncomfortable the moment he steps through the door.

Wymack is the one to approach the nurse with Bee in tow to tell her they’re here for Andrew Minyard. Her eyes widen minutely as she glances around Wymack at the remaining members of The Monsters but she schools her expression in record time and promptly puts a call through to Andrew’s room upstairs.

It’s almost ten minutes before the waiting room door opens and a man in a white lab coat steps into the room in front of a five foot tall, blond clone of Aaron. His face is expressionless is the first thing Neil notices, the manic grin he’d seen in previous pictures and videos nowhere in sight. The second thing he notices is that Andrew holds himself differently to Aaron; Aaron’s stature is always defensive, Andrew seems untouchable.

“Andrew.” Nicky’s voice sounds choked as he says it and Neil doesn’t need to look over to know he’s got tears in his eyes.

Aaron’s only reaction is a quiet release of breath.

Kevin simply stares at Andrew, eyes heavy from the alcohol.

Andrew doesn’t acknowledge any of them except for the way his gaze settles on each of them one by one, lingering for a moment as if to make sure they’re each intact until his eyes finally fall on Neil.

The moment their eyes lock Neil feels something in him stir. It’s a contradiction of a stare – on the one hand, charged with challenge and on the other, a bland appraisal. Neil doesn’t know what Andrew sees but whatever it is, it prompts him into moving. He steps around the doctor and moves to stand between Aaron and Wymack, a subtle gesture that aligns him with his family.

“It’s good to see you again, Andrew,” Betsy says warmly. How she can do so in the face of such blind apathy is pretty impressive to Neil.

Wymack sighs but it sounds like one of relief as he says, “Let’s get you home, kid.”

Andrew starts walking without a word, leaving Wymack and Bee to discuss the conditions of his release with the doctor while the rest of the band scramble to follow him. Neil walks behind them – he’s the fastest of them all but something tells him he shouldn’t be a part of this.

They take separate cars back to the cousins’ house – Neil with Bee and Wymack and the rest of the band in the other car with Andrew. Neil tries not to let the intense loneliness he feels at being separated show on his face as he avoids Wymack’s gaze in the rearview mirror.

Wymack sends him a concerned glance when they first get into the car but otherwise doesn’t comment on it.

Neil’s been to their house once when they played a show in Columbia and spent the night at a club Nicky and the twins used to work at but pulling up to the curb doesn’t put him at ease this time the way it had before. Before the house had breathed home, now he doesn’t know what to expect.

The Monsters’ car is in the drive by the time they park, having pulled up a few minutes beforehand. They’ve already migrated inside if the opened door is anything to go by.

Neil follows Wymack and Bee out of the car, pushing down the itch to go for a run. He needs to clear his head; too many things have changed in the last eight hours. He was supposed to have more time to come to terms with all of this.

Neil follows the sound of Nicky’s boisterous voice once he’s inside, turning down the hallway until he enters the kitchen. Nicky is facetiming Erik – his smile is always ten times brighter when he’s talking to Erik – and speaking in rapid German as he fills him in. Neil can understand him but he chooses not to listen - he knows how quickly Nicky and Erik can switch to dirty talk without any prompting.

Kevin and Aaron are sitting at the kitchen island – Kevin resting his chin in his hand and Aaron texting who Neil presumes is Katelyn.

Andrew is nowhere in sight.

“Where’s Andrew?” Bee asks genially just as Wymack ducks out of the room to answer his phone. (Probably Abby – their publicist who is almost definitely in a relationship with Wymack.)

“Back porch,” Kevin mumbles tiredly and Neil notices he dark circles under his eyes for the first time today; he’s cradling his left hand, it must be bothering him. It always tends to ache a bit more when Kevin is stressed. Which is always, really.

Nicky suddenly interrupts his own conversation to look at Neil. “You should go talk to him!” he says encouragingly.

Neil screws up his face in consternation. “Me? Why?”

“Fill him in! Catch him up on what he missed, how you changed some of the guitar chords, whatever! You guys should get to know each other.” Nicky looks so earnest Neil almost wants to agree but then Aaron scoffs.

“Andrew’s sober, not agreeable. What makes you think he’ll actually want to talk to Neil?”

Nicky pulls a face, looking like he wants to argue but then Erik calls his name and his attention returns to the screen.

Even so, Neil eyes the door leading to the backyard and, after a split second deliberation, goes outside. Andrew is sitting on the porch, smoking a cigarette. Where he got them is beyond Neil given that he’s only been out of Easthaven for half an hour.

He doesn’t react to the door opening or Neil stepping outside so Neil moves closer, eventually sitting down on the step beside him. He should feel tense sitting next to Andrew; he doesn’t know a lot about the other Minyard but he knows enough to know he should be intimidated. Instead, he inexplicably feels relaxed, the smell of smoke tricking him into a false sense of security.

He doesn’t expect Andrew to be the one to speak first but he breaks the silence after only a moment. “So you’re my replacement,” he says faintly, eyes following the trail of smoke leaking from his mouth.

Neil watches the smoke too; it seems safer than watching Andrew. “Something like that,” he replies, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them.

Andrew casts him a critical sidelong glance before taking another drag. “You don’t want to leave.”

Neil starts at that, unconsciously leaning away from Andrew. No one ever learns to read him this quickly, especially not strangers. He doesn’t let them. “What makes you say that?”

“You’re not as difficult to read as you’d like to think you are.”

If the Andrew from before was sitting beside him it probably would’ve been said with vindictive scorn; this Andrew says it as if he were commenting on something as mundane as the weather.

“Neither are you,” Neil retorts, more out of an instinctual need to react rather than because it’s true. He’s known Andrew all of five minutes, how would he know?

Andrew considers him for a moment before shrugging. “We’ll see.”

Taking that to be the end of the conversation, Neil stands up and heads for the back door but he stops in his tracks when Andrew speaks again.

“By the way, you play it wrong.”

Neil swivels on his heel and finds Andrew not even looking at him. “Excuse me?”

“Pipedream,” Andrew elaborates. “You play it wrong.”

Neil feels his mouth drop open in indignation. Pipedream is probably his favourite song off Perimeter Road; it’s the one he always relates to the most and the one he actually feels comfortable enough to put honest emotion into when he sings it. He’s cherished the song since he joined the band but suddenly there’s a voice in his head reminding him it’s the only song on the album that has solely Andrew’s writing credits on it.

“I changed the chord progression on the bridge because it flowed better,” Neil says blankly. “I’m not playing it wrong.”

Andrew only scoffs, stubbing his cigarette out on the step beside him. “You’re playing it wrong.”

Neil rolls his eyes, deciding it’s not worth the argument – Andrew can it play however he wants now that he’s back – and returns inside.

* * *

 

Neil spends the night on the couch since Andrew is home and actually using his room. He doesn’t really care, he’s slept in worse places, but the drapes in the living room are crepe paper thin and send the light filtering into the room as soon as the sun rises. Neil sighs when keeping his eyes closed isn’t an option anymore and checks the time on his phone. When he sees that it’s 6:30 he internally whimpers. Knowing he won’t get back to sleep, he decides to go for a run.

He spends a few minutes ambling around the house, slipping into the bathroom to change after grabbing a t-shirt and shorts from his duffle bag. As he passes the living room on his way to the kitchen he snatches his hoodie off the back of the arm chair and shoves his feet into his running shoes.

He expects the kitchen to be deserted – Aaron, Kevin and Nicky aren’t what you’d call morning people – but a figure in the middle of the dim room almost has Neil reaching for the knife block.

At first he thinks it’s Aaron but then his eyes lock in on the black armbands and he realises it’s Andrew. He’s sitting at the kitchen island, eyes hooded and hands cupped around a mug of coffee, staring impassively at Neil as he enters the room.

“Didn’t know you were an early riser,” Neil comments, opening the fridge and grabbing the first bottle of water he sees and trying desperately to calm his racing heart.

“Breakfast was at 6am sharp in Easthaven,” Andrew says by way of an answer and Neil nods.

“If the others ask, I’m gone for a run,” Neil tells him, mostly because he doesn’t know what else to say. Andrew only staring at him in response doesn’t exactly encourage him to stay and make conversation so he hurries back out to the living room for his phone without a backward glance, leaving Andrew to drink his coffee in peace.

Running helps to clear his head if only because it allows him to switch off his mind for a couple of hours and focus solely on his body. By the time he makes it back his t-shirt is soaked through and his hair is slick against his forehead. His legs are burning and his lungs feel like they’ve been scraped raw but at least he’s not thinking.

The house is slightly more lively when he returns. Nicky is singing from his position at the stove, flipping what look to be pancakes. Kevin is at the kitchen island nursing a coffee and if the dark circles under his eyes are anything to go by he’s hungover as fuck. Aaron is staring at the toaster like it’s personally offended him for not popping yet. Andrew, predictably, is nowhere to be seen.

“Neil!” Nicky exclaims when he spots him. “I’m making pancakes! Want some?”

Neil musters up something of a smile and drops into the empty chair beside Kevin. “Sure. Thanks Nicky.”

Nicky grins and returns to the task at hand before Aaron turns, toast finally browned, and eyes him with disdain. “You’re not getting any fucking pancakes until you shower. You stink.”

Neil flips him off but hauls himself off the stool again anyway. Sitting in his own sweat is never comfortable.

“What are you talking about?” Nicky demands, affronted. “He looks all manly and sexy.” He throws Neil an exaggerated wink while Aaron makes a disgusted face around his mouthful of toast. “Don’t worry, Neil. You go have your shower; your pancakes will be ready when you’re done.”

“Thanks Nicky.”

“Anything for my sidepiece!” Nicky calls before yelping, meaning Neil doesn’t have to go back in and punch him because Aaron probably already did that for him. Good. He doesn’t know if he can lift his arms right now.

When he comes back downstairs after his shower everyone has cleared out of the kitchen except Nicky, who sets a plate of pancakes down in front of him with a flourish and an affectionate grin, and Wymack who’s now taking up residence on the other side of the counter.

Nicky disappears after ruffling Neil’s hair, leaving the two of them alone. Definitely a tactical retreat; Neil is about to be given his thanks and put on a plane back to wherever the fuck he decides to go.

Wymack at least has the decency to let him eat his pancakes first.

“I’ve got an offer for you,” Wymack says when Neil’s about to start on his second of the stack.

He pauses, fork raised to his mouth as he takes in the other man. Wymack’s face is mostly blank but there’s a glint in his eyes, the kind Neil has gotten used to realising means he’s excited about something.

“Which is?” Neil asks slowly.

“Don’t leave the band.”

Neil chokes on his pancake. It takes two minutes of him coughing and spluttering while Wymack watches on amusedly before he can finally get enough air into his lungs to reply. “ _What.”_

“Don’t leave,” Wymack says again. “You’ve meshed with the guys, the fans love you and would hate to see you go and it takes some of the pressure off Andrew while he settles back into things again.”

Neil’s mind is reeling. Wymack is asking him to stay.  _He could stay_. He could- it’s not Wymack’s call though.

“What do the others think?”

“They’re all on board.”

“Even Andrew?” Neil asks sceptically. They haven’t spoken much but if Neil can be certain of one thing, it’s that Andrew doesn’t care for him.

“It was Andrew’s idea.”

And that’s- what.

“What.”

“He brought it up with me yesterday. Said it’d be stupid to get rid of you just as the fans became devoted to you and he’s right. They ate up the limited edition merch we had with your name on it and they went crazy over the picture Nicky posted on twitter last night-“

“What picture?” Neil asks abruptly. He doesn’t remember Nicky taking a picture of him.

“The one of you and Andrew,” Wymack explains like it should be obvious.

Neil snatches his phone off the table and loads the app. The first thing he notices is the ridiculous number of notifications he has but he bypasses that in favour of pulling up Nicky’s Twitter. The top tweet reads, “ _Getting acquainted_ ,” with that stupid emoji of the monkey covering its mouth Nicky loves so much and a picture of him and Andrew with their backs facing the camera as they’d sat on the porch last night. Neil hadn’t even realised they were being watched.

The photo does indeed already have thousands of retweets and likes after only being up a few hours; Neil rolls his eyes before setting his phone down again.

“We’re already generating a lot of press with Andrew’s return but keeping you on as well? It’s just the promo push we need to get the last few dates of the tour sold out.”

“I’m not staying just to be part of some PR scheme,” Neil remarks sharply, mouth pulling down in a frown just at the thought. He wants to stay because- he wants to stay.

“That’s not why,” Wymack says placatingly, raising his hands in surrender. “That’s just a bonus. I really think you could add something new to the band – you already have been – and the boys agree.

Neil thinks it over, subtly pinching his thigh under the table to prevent himself from jumping at the chance. “What would it mean? Staying?”

Wymack blows out a breath, hand waving in a careless gesture. “Going on tour, writing and playing on the next album. Everything you’ve already been doing. But permanently.”

It sounds like a dream. It’s everything he’s wanted – a place to stay, a place where he fits, a _home_ , makeshift as it is.

Keeping his voice as neutral as possible, he meets Wymack’s gaze. He knows there’s really only one answer. “Okay.”

Wymack doesn’t have any qualms about hiding his own emotions and grins proudly. “Right answer. I’ll have the contracts drawn up and we can go over them when we get back to LA. We need to start tour rehearsals.”

Neil gets approximately ten seconds to let that sink in before a hopeful, “Did he say yes?” sounds from the kitchen doorway.

At Wymack’s nod, Nicky yells in triumph, racing into the room and sweeping Neil out of his chair into a massive bear hug. Neil is so shocked by everything that’s just happened, he lets him. Kevin eventually drags Nicky off him, clapping Neil on the back and giving him a sharp nod. It says more than any words could. It’s a reminder: that they understand each other, that this is different from Riko, that this is  _right_. Neil nods back and Kevin lets him go.

Aaron just sighs when faced with Neil before begrudgingly admitting, “You’re a decent guitar player.” Neil huffs a laugh and mutters a thanks, eyes finding Andrew’s. He’s standing in the kitchen doorway, watching the spectacle from a distance. When he catches Neil staring he raises two fingers to his temple in a mock salute.

Inexplicably, it makes Neil want to smile.

* * *

 

* * *

 

They spend one more day in Columbia before they fly back to LA; they have to do a press conference to tell everyone Andrew is back and that Neil will be staying with the band. Why they can’t just release a statement, Neil doesn’t know. Three out of five of them aren’t exactly talkative and any smile Kevin offers the press is always a big fat lie. Nicky is the only one that can behave somewhat sincerely when talking to reporters.

The conference is scheduled to take place Tuesday afternoon – just in time for the weekly news rotation – after Neil spends the entire morning with Wymack, some of the label execs and their lawyers going through the terms of his new contract. It’s basically an extension of his previous contract just with some more clauses. Signing the dotted line at the end of it settles Neil more than he expected it to.

After that he’s ushered into the dressing room where the others are. Nicky is half undressed, holding up two different shirts to their stylist and asking her opinion while Aaron is glaring at his reflection in the mirror as he gets his hair done. Kevin is sitting motionless and uncomplaining as one of their hair and makeup artists bats at his face with powder brush.

Andrew is on the couch, seemingly already dressed and messing with his phone.

An outfit is quickly shoved into Neil’s hands and, after staring down at it for a moment, he makes a beeline for the adjoining bathroom. He’s changed in front of them all once or twice when he didn’t have a choice but he’s mostly avoided it at all costs. Aaron, Nicky and Kevin have all seen his scars by now – Kevin was there to witness the origins of some of them - and are well used to him leaving the room to change. He could change out with them if he had to but Andrew is still virtually a stranger and his presence is off-putting on a good day, not least of all when Neil is vulnerable like that.

When he returns to the dressing room Kevin has left the makeup chair and is sitting a comfortable distance away from Andrew on the couch. Aaron looks even more murderous than before as concealer is dotted under his eyes while Nicky chats amicably – now fully dressed – to the stylist fluffing up his hair. Snapping fingers grab Neil’s attention and he sees one of their makeup girls, Laila, gesturing for him to sit down.

Wymack returns at that exact moment with Abby in tow to prep them all. Neil gets the usual spiel not to antagonise the press while Andrew gets a sharp warning not to pull his knives on anyone.

Andrew rolls his eyes, pointedly pulling the sleeves of his shirt down over his armbands. “It’ll be boring but fine.”

Neil’s eyes widen at the implication. When Andrew catches him staring he shoves one of his sleeves back up again, peeling back the hem of his armband to reveal the metal glint of a knife. Neil is planning on viewing his armbands with a lot more trepidation from now on.

“Now listen to me, you little shits,” Wymack starts off, ever the father figure. “They’re not gonna hold back out there. They’ll do anything to get a quote they can manipulate to suit their own agenda. Do not give them one. They’re gonna say shitty, offensive things about Andrew’s treatment and while I don’t expect you to lie down and take it, I don’t want any of you causing unnecessary trouble either, got it?”

They all nod vaguely and Wymack drags a weary hand down his face.

“If you don’t like the question, you say “no comment”, do you understand?” At the resounding silence he lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Say, “Yes Wymack”.”

“Yes, Wymack,” they reply dutifully in various monotone voices.

Wymack stares at them for a moment before seemingly deciding that’s the best he’s going to get. “Alright, get your asses out there. Are you ready?”

After they get the all clear from their styling team they’re escorted back through the corridors to the conference room. Wymack hurries out on stage first to announce them and they’re met with polite applause and numerous camera flashes as they file on stage to take their seats.

Nicky smiles genuinely, waving at some of the reporters he recognises while Kevin follows with his camera-ready grin firmly in place. Neil, Andrew and Aaron follow at a more sedate pace, opting for careful neutrality with their expressions. Or more likely none of them are good at faking it for the cameras so they don’t bother to try.

Once they’re seated Abby moves to the floor and directs the questions to prevent everything from descending into chaos. She points to one of the reporters in the front row and the first question is, predictably, “Andrew, how are you feeling after your stint in rehab?”

Out of the corner of his eye Neil sees Andrew quirk an eyebrow, likely at the phrasing of the question. She’s making it sound like he was there for a drug overdose, not court mandated therapy.

“Well Jan, to answer your question, I’m not feeling at all.”

Wymack is too far away for Neil to hear him but he still sees him mouth a string of curse words. Andrew looks incredibly satisfied with his answer – or as satisfied as he can look now, expression smooth as he reclines back in his chair.

Abby quickly picks another reporter before anymore can be said.

“Neil, is it true you are now staying in the band indefinitely?”

“Signed the contract this morning,” Neil confirms, deciding that’s enough information to give. Short and to the point, that’s what Wymack always tells him.

“How will that work?” the same reporter asks. “Do you need two guitarists?”

It’s something Neil himself has been wondering, really. But he’s been too afraid to bring it up in case everyone changes their mind and he gets kicked to the curb again.

“We’ll fight to the death,” Andrew answers lazily. “Whoever wins can stay in the band.”

Nicky laughs and Neil can’t tell if it’s to diffuse the tension or not but it at least prompts the reporters to realise they’re kidding. It’s clear no one knows how to deal with a sober Andrew any more than they did when he was medicated.

“Do you foresee any issues between the two of you going forward? What with you both essentially occupying the same role?” some guy from Billboard asks, looking between Andrew and Neil.

“I think we can manage,” Neil says right as Andrew cuts in with, “We can’t stand each other, already been at each other’s throats.”

Neil turns to him and raises his eyebrows in question. Andrew doesn’t acknowledge him but Neil gets the feeling he’s baiting the press out of boredom more than because he actually believes what he’s saying. Especially if what Wymack said about it being Andrew’s idea to keep him in the band is true.

Neil shakes his head, huffing amusedly before facing the press again. He decides to let Andrew handle them, partly because Neil still doesn’t really know how to deal with this whole process and partly because it’s at least somewhat entertaining watching Andrew feed them with more information about all the apparent arguments they’ve been having.

Needless to say, the conference really only goes downhill from there.

* * *

 

The next morning marks the beginning of tour rehearsal, brought forward a few days due to Andrew’s early release. They’re all eating breakfast at the studio, waiting for their support act, The Upperclassmen, to show up so they can officially get to work and Neil is just after taking a bite out of his second slice of toast when Wymack storms into the room with a harried expression and slams an iPad down in front of him and Andrew.

It’s open on E!Online with a headline in big, bold letters that reads, “Minyard-Josten Rivalry: How the two guitarists are already warring over their shared position in The Monsters.”

Neil continues chewing his toast, skimming the first few lines of the article before staring blankly up at Wymack. From the corner of his eye, he spots Andrew doing the same.

“Well?!” Wymack demands.

Neil swallows his toast and clears his throat. “What?”

“I thought I told you not to give them a quote they could manipulate!” he yells; he looks close to popping a blood vessel. Neil doesn’t really get why. “There are already twenty other websites with the same headline! Abby’s phone has been ringing off the hook looking for an official statement.”

Andrew’s stare remains unimpressed beside him as he drops his spoon back into his bowl of cereal. “Now they have a story,” he says. “It’ll distract them from digging around to see what they can find out about my stay in Easthaven and make everyone all the more focused on the tour.”

Wymack stares at him in disbelief; honestly, Neil is a little impressed too. It’s a good tactic, if a little messy and unpredictable.

“We can’t appear as anything less than a united front now, Andrew,” he says impatiently. “We can’t have people questioning the longevity of the band right as you’re about to go on tour.”

“And they won’t,” Andrew replies. “Let it fester for two months while we rehearse and we can show up at the first show like one big happy family and put the rumours to bed.”

Wymack raises an eyebrow, likely at the “happy family” line – between Nicky and the twins’ complicated upbringing, Neil’s atrocious childhood and Wymack only finding out he was Kevin’s father when Kevin ran to him at eighteen after Riko destroyed his hand, they’re not exactly what you’d call a conventional family. Eventually though, he hangs his head and lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Next time leave the PR schemes to me and Abby,” he requests exasperatedly. “Or at least fill me in first.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Andrew drawls before getting up from the table to dispose of his bowl.

“The rest of you,” Wymack adds, spinning to face the table at large and pointing a finger at each of them. “Do not encourage this until Abby and I work out how we’re gonna play this, do you understand?”

When he gets a nod from each of them his shoulders finally drop and he looks mildly less stressed. “Alright hurry up and finish your breakfast; your vocal coach is waiting for you.”

With that, he grabs the iPad back up off the table and disappears from the room.

They’re only sitting in silence for a matter of seconds before the door bursts open again in the form of a beaming Matt Boyd. “Did you miss me?!”

Nicky is the first out of his chair rushing over to Matt with his arms outstretched. “Matthew! My other sidepiece!” he calls dramatically, tackling Matt with a full-body hug while Neil rolls his eyes – it distresses him slightly that he does so out of fondness rather than exasperation. These people are making him soft.

“Back off, Hemmick. He’s mine,” a sly voice comes from behind the two boys and suddenly Dan Wilds, lead singer and guitarist for The Upperclassmen, is stepping into the room.

Nicky releases Matt with a cackle, giving Dan an exaggerated wink. “I don’t mind sharing.”

She rolls her eyes but she’s laughing as she drags Matt out of the way of the door to let Allison Reynolds and Renee Walker into the room.

Nicky gives Renee a quick squeeze before he and Allison immediately begin talking rapidly about everything they’ve missed since they last spoke.

The Upperclassmen and The Monsters went to college together. They’d lived on the same floor in the dorms and most of them had been in the same music programme for the two years before The Monsters were signed. The Upperclassmen ended up landing a record deal a year later and they’ve apparently kept in touch ever since.

When it was arranged that they’d open for The Monsters for The Foxhole Court tour Neil had been introduced to them – though at the time he was meant to be long gone by the time tour began. Even still, he’d liked them and Matt, particularly, seemed to have taken a shine to him when they’d all hung out that first night.

He’s glad they’ll be here for this; as loud and energetic as they are and as unused to that as Neil is, he feels comfortable with them.

Renee moves to sit down on Andrew’s other side and Neil doesn’t get a chance to watch them interact before Matt’s clamping a hand down on his shoulder. “Hey man! It’s good to see you! We were so stoked when Nicky called and said you were staying in the band.”

Dan pulls herself away from talking shop with Kevin and Aaron to flash a grin at Neil. “It’s true. Matt nearly broke the phone he was so excited.”

Neil huffs a laugh with the shake of his head as Matt grabs a spare chair to sit between him and Kevin. “I’m glad to stay,” he says honestly.

Everyone’s conversations begin to overlap as Nicky and Allison return to the table. Allison and Aaron have a peculiar friendship wherein they hate each other but they’ll spend ages picking apart the drumbeat on whatever song is currently number one in the charts. It shouldn’t be a surprise that the only time they get along is when they’re criticising someone else.

Their newest debate is drowned out by Matt and Nicky’s boisterous laughter as they bait Kevin by purposely getting musical terms wrong just to get a rise out of him while Dan watches on amusedly.

With the rest of them occupied it gives Neil a chance to observe Renee and Andrew.

Renee had put Neil on edge at first, not because he hadn’t believed her good Christian girl act but because he knew there was more to her than that. His suspicions were confirmed when, as the only two sober people at an Upperclassmen-Monster party, she told him about her past as a runner for a gang. In return he’d provided her with some details about his own past and his father’s conviction. He shouldn’t be surprised that the Monster she’s closest to is Andrew.

They’re speaking quietly – too quiet for Neil to hear – but the smile on her face reminds Neil of Betsy and the way she always looks at Andrew warmly, even when his own face is completely devoid of emotion.

Neil leans forward to grab his cup of coffee, inadvertently leaning closer to Andrew and catching the tail-end of Renee’s sentence. And maybe he heard wrong but it sounds a lot like they’re discussing strategies for a potential zombie apocalypse?

Shaking his head, Neil lets Dan pulls him into a conversation until their vocal coach, Jeremy, comes into the room and announces he needs The Monsters.

They bid The Upperclassmen goodbye with the promise to find them again when they break for lunch and file out of the room to follow Jeremy down the hall.

They’re rehearsing in a recording booth for now, focusing on refamiliarising themselves with the songs and figuring out who’s singing what and which harmonies work best now that they have three lead vocals instead of two. Nicky and Andrew always sang the majority of their songs before Neil showed up; Kevin and Aaron were capable singers too but they were much more dedicated to their instruments. Kevin had told Neil that part of the reason he’d called him after they’d lost Andrew was because he had the vocals as well as the guitar skills. It had made things easier on them all not having to divvy up the parts.

They warm up as a group first, running through scales until Jeremy is satisfied. He claps his hands together after a few minutes to stop them and throws Andrew an encouraging smile. “Alright Andrew, show me how you’ve been practicing the last few months. Give me a few bars of something.”

Andrew sets his water bottle aside and clears his throat. Without preamble, he begins to sing the first verse of Pipedream and Neil has just enough time to catch the way Jeremy’s expression drops before he turns to stare at Andrew.

His voice is undeniably beautiful – perfectly toeing the line between raspy and smooth – and every single note is clear and in tune but Neil sees what made Jeremy react like that. Andrew’s face is just- empty.

Neil has seen videos of Andrew performing before and though his pills made him unpredictable, he was still always able to put _some_ kind of emotion into his voice – even if it was a lie. Kevin always complained that a drugged up Andrew was a flight risk but the rare rawness it could add to Andrew’s performance had been mesmerising.

Now, Andrew is more stable, more reliable, and his voice is as strong as ever but it’s mind-boggling how he can sing the way he is and not show even the slightest inflection of emotion on his face or in his voice.

He stops singing just before the chorus, meeting Jeremy’s shocked stare evenly. “How was that?”

Jeremy starts, clearing his throat and schooling his expression into something more neutral. “Technically? Faultless as always.”

He looks like considers saying more but seems to think better of it. Andrew nods like he knows what he’s not saying anyway and he doesn’t care. Jeremy watches him a moment longer before focusing on the group at large again. Clapping his hands together, he forces a smile back onto his face. “Alright! Let’s try Room 317! Neil and Andrew, just sing together for now and then we can figure out a harmony or split the part.”

Neil nods as he and Nicky both shuffle closer to Andrew so they can hear each other better. Nicky takes a second to sing the opening note under his breath before starting on the first verse. Aaron dutifully begins thumping out a beat on the table in front of them to keep them in tempo as Neil and Andrew join him for the chorus.

Their voices blend well together which makes Neil’s shoulders drop in relief. He knows how to harmonise with Nicky and Nicky obviously knows how to harmonise with Andrew but it’s a relief to know they can still meld together as a trio even when they haven’t sung together before.

Nicky’s voice drops off after the last line of the chorus and Neil jolts in surprise when he realises what he’s hearing now is _just_ him and Andrew. It’s rough around the edges because they haven’t learned how to harmonise with each other yet and they both have their own ways of singing the verse but Neil can’t help the thrill that runs up his spine at the sound of their voices together.

They sound _good_ – if a little unpolished. Neil’s voice is just that slightest bit higher to complement the scratchy quality of Andrew’s tone and Neil feels a momentary pulse of anticipation at the thought of what they’ll sound like once they’ve worked out the finer details.

Jeremy is beaming by the time they finish the song, an excited glint in his eyes as he regards the three of them. “Okay. We can work with this.”

They spend the better part of an hour reworking it to find parts that suit all three of them comfortably. Jeremy makes them try out harmonies in different keys until they find one that fits both him and Andrew best – Neil knows it’s the right one when goosebumps break out over his arms as soon as they’ve sung the second word. They bring in the instruments after a while and Jeremy fine tunes the parts where they need Kevin and Aaron’s voices for backup.

They only make it through one more song before they break for lunch but Neil feels exhilaration course through his veins at the thought of everything coming together.

Even with the contract he’s been afraid that he doesn’t fit in, that once they actually perform everyone will realise they _don’t_ need both him and Andrew and he’ll be dropped. But if the past few hours are anything to go by, the two of them combining forces will only push the band to sound _better_.

* * *

 

When they arrive in the cafeteria for lunch The Upperclassmen are already waiting for them, sprawled out across two tables pushed together with five extra chairs. They grab what they want from the buffet before joining them, arriving at the table to a chorus of hellos.

“How’s rehearsal going?” Dan asks interestedly as soon as they’re all settled.

“Awesome!” Nicky replies, enthusiasm clear in his voice as he digs into his sandwich. “Neil and Andrew sound amazing together.”

Neil flushes at the praise but keeps to himself and refuses to look up from his food. He still hasn’t really learned how to take a compliment; Riko much preferred criticism that bordered on abuse. Andrew doesn’t even react, head propped up by his left hand as he pushes his fries around his plate with his right.

Kevin, on the other hand, has plenty to say. He scoffs at Nicky’s assessment. “They’re pitchy and still haven’t found a middle ground. If we went out and performed like we did this morning we’d be laughed off the stage.”

Neil rolls his eyes at him, long since having learned not to deign comments like that with a response while Matt snorts and looks between Neil and Andrew. “Isn’t this the first time you’ve sung together?”

When Neil nods Matt and Dan start laughing, ignoring Kevin’s agitated protest of, “Still!”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Renee says magnanimously. “You have two months to get settled; that’s plenty of time.”

“We’re already behind schedule because we have to rearrange all the songs,” Kevin grumbles before suddenly shrinking in on himself. Looking across the table, Neil finds Andrew still staring impassively at his food but his left hand has disappeared under the table, as has his knife.

“Whose idea was it for Neil to join the band in the first place?” Aaron snaps derisively. “Stop complaining.”

Kevin glares at him but doesn’t reply, effectively letting the conversation end. Andrew’s hand returns to the table a moment later, as does the bread knife.

Neil bites back a grin and returns to his food, letting Allison and Nicky commandeer the conversation and steer it towards discussing the latest celebrity feud. You’d think being celebrities themselves they would’ve realised by now that everything the press says is usually conflated bullshit but evidently not.

The rest of the day is long and exhausting and Neil’s throat is ragged by the end of it but when he crawls into bed that night he feels a bone deep satisfaction knowing that he belongs here, that even with Andrew’s presence he still fits.

He’s right where he’s meant to be.

*

Rehearsals are a lot of work but Neil loves every second of it.

It’s hours upon hours singing the same songs over and over again until his throat is hoarse just to make sure they’ve got the key change after the bridge down. It’s playing his guitar until his fingers feel raw and too many stubborn arguments with Andrew about chord progressions until one of them eventually caves. (Andrew gives in a surprising number of times.)

It’s watching Kevin and Aaron and Nicky in their element; Kevin still playing his keyboard through their break and ignoring the rest of them, Aaron banging loudly on his cymbals whenever they start talking about something he doesn’t care about and Nicky making one too many innuendos about fingering his bass.

It’s all the technical stuff – working with the sound technicians and figuring out blocking and lighting on stage. It’s picking the setlist and then _rearranging_ the setlist before rearranging it again. It’s the fascinating way upping a mic or changing a light can transform an entire song.

It’s breakfast and lunch and dinner with The Upperclassmen and drinks every Friday night and crashing each other’s rehearsals whenever one group is on a break.

It’s the most fun Neil has had in years.

Their first show is in Washington and the day before finds them in front of the tour buses, laden with suitcases. Neil is the only one that seems capable of fitting his life in two bags – he used to be able to fit it in one and he doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that he can’t anymore – Nicky has at least seven bags even though the buses and hotels are going to have every amenity they’ll need.

There are three buses – one for the crew, one for The Monsters and one for The Upperclassmen – each bus is black with an orange streak racing across the sides that ends in a white wisp and Neil realises on closer inspection it’s a picture of a fox, the fox’s body taking up most of the bus door. Small white fox paw prints make a border pattern around the design.

It’s about to be his home for the next three months and he can’t say he’s dreading it.

After stowing most of their luggage in the undercarriage and saying goodbye to the others with excited calls of, “See you in Washington!” they load onto the bus one by one.

Neil has never been on a tour bus before but he’s instantly impressed with this one. The front door leads them into a living area with a couch built into one wall and a booth and kitchenette built into the other; there’s a TV and sound system overhead in perfect view of the couch. The door at the back of the room leads into the most miserable excuse for a hallway Neil has ever seen but is really more just a narrow, two foot long strip that leads to a toilet on the right and a shower on the left. Stepping through the corridor, they arrive at their sleeping area.

Three bunks are stacked on top of each other on one side while the remaining two occupy the other wall; finally, there’s a narrow cabinet built into the back wall for them to stow their remaining bags.

All in all it’s a bit of a tight squeeze but Neil still can’t believe how much they’ve managed to fit into such a compact space.

“I call top bunk!” Aaron calls from behind him, effectively knocking Neil out of his reverie as he pushes past him to throw his bag on the top bunk to the right.

“I’ll sleep under you,” Nicky decides after a moment’s deliberation. “You weigh like, three pounds; you won’t even make a dent in the mattress.”

Aaron snorts, heaving himself up onto his bed. “You say that like Andrew isn’t the exact same size as me and Neil isn’t five-three.”

“I’m not sleeping underneath Andrew; he’ll stab me!” Nicky exclaims in horror before his eyes shift over to Neil and he develops a mischievous grin. “On the other hand, maybe I should sleep below Neil. It’d make our late night booty calls easier.”

Andrew hits Nicky square in the face with his duffel bag as he swings it around to throw on one of the opposite bunks. “Neil’s sleeping on this side.”

Kevin ignores all of them and shoves his own bag into the bunk below Andrew, leaving the very top bunk for Neil.

Nicky huffs, rubbing at his nose with a sour look at Andrew. “What do you care? You and Neil don’t even like each other.”

It’s not strictly true. It’s just that, outside of arguing about song arrangements they really haven’t spoken much in the last two months. But to be fair, Andrew hasn’t spoken much with most people in the last two months so Neil doesn’t exactly take it personally.

“Been reading up on the Minyard-Josten rivalry again, Nicky?” Andrew asks disinterestedly.

Neil chooses not to get involved and slings his bag onto his bed, pulling himself up after it. The mattress is comfy and there’s a curtain he can pull to block out the light; the cramped space will take a while to get used to though.

“I’m just saying,” Nicky complains, fiddling with his phone before he suddenly climbs out of his bed again to stand up straight. “Whatever. Anyone find the Wi-Fi password yet? I wanna Skype Erik.”

“You are _not_ having skype sex below me,” Aaron warns with a disgusted scowl.

Nicky just throws him an unimpressed look. “Like you won’t be doing the same with Katelyn.”

Neil makes a face. He really doesn’t want to think about Aaron having sex.

“New rule,” he says. “No one has any kind of sex in here. Ever.”

“Listen Josten, just because you don’t swing doesn’t mean the rest of us took an abstinence pledge,” Aaron retorts.

Neil is about snap back at him but he notices movement from the bunk below him. Leaning over the side of his own bed, he finds Andrew staring curiously up at him. It’s the first time since they first met that Neil has been on the receiving end of a look besides annoyance or indifference.

Neil stares down at him for a moment but Andrew doesn’t ask any questions. “I’m demi,” he explains somewhat unnecessarily.

Andrew only watches him a moment longer before nodding and disappearing into his own bunk again.

“Which officially make you and Andrew the only single ones out of all of us,” Kevin points out. Neil is pretty sure “all of us” also includes Dan and Matt and Renee and Allison, The Upperclassmen’s two respective couples. “Which means we overrule you.”

“No one is having sex in this room,” Andrew says. And that’s the end of that.

Neil tries exceptionally hard not to smile. Well, it’s not like the others can see him anyway.

* * *

 

Like he’d predicted, sleep doesn’t come easy on the tour bus.

Granted, it’s more comfortable than anything Neil had slept on two years prior to Kevin’s phone call a few months ago but eight months sleeping in an actual bed has gotten him out of the habit of being able to sleep anywhere at any time. Looks like he’ll be relearning it soon enough.

Giving up on sleep for now, he decides to move out into the lounge area. If he can’t rest he might as well do something productive and write. He climbs out of bed as quietly as he can, reaching into the cabinet to grab his journal and a pen from his duffle, and slips out of the room.

Finding Andrew camped out on the couch when he steps through to the living area stops him in his tracks. But all Andrew does is lazily glance in his direction before returning his attention back to his book.

Neil watches him for a moment but when he doesn’t get any marching orders back to the bedroom he pads forward to curl up on the other end of the couch. He sits sideways, back against the armrest and legs tucked up underneath himself. He’s facing Andrew but Andrew doesn’t acknowledge it so Neil doesn’t either.

Neil flicks through the pages of his journal until he finds the last half-finished song he’d been working on. Normally he’d have his guitar out as well but he doesn’t want to wake anyone so working with his own mind will just have to do for now.

At first the silence between himself and Andrew feels stifling. The air is awkward and stilted but slowly it makes way for something almost companionable.

Andrew reads and Neil writes and rewrites lyrics.

Neil doesn’t even realise how much time has passed until he looks up and finds Andrew asleep, thumb still hooked to mark the page in his book. Neil considers waking him but he’s seen Aaron and Kevin attempt to wake Andrew from a nap before only to be punched in the stomach for touching him while he was unaware.

He figures the couch is probably just as comfortable as the bed and Andrew’s after dragging his comforter out here with him anyway so it’s not like he’ll be cold. Deciding to leave him be, Neil returns his attention to his song.

He doesn’t intend on falling asleep but he must because the next thing he knows he’s opening his eyes to the sound of cutlery clinking together.

Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he takes a second to take stock of where he is.

Aaron and Nicky are sitting in the booth across from him, a makeshift breakfast on the table between them. It’s at that moment Neil realises he’s covered in a blanket – _Andrew’s_ blanket, his brain immediately supplies – and he bolts upright.

Andrew is still on the other end of the couch, awake and sitting up properly now with a thermos in his hand. He raises his eyebrow at Neil’s distressed reaction but otherwise doesn’t react.

They stare at one another for an indiscernible moment where Neil doesn’t know what’s passing between them before Nicky suddenly seems to realise he’s awake.

“Morning,” he greets cheerily, pulling Neil’s attention away from Andrew. Nicky holds out the plate that had been sitting on the table between him and Aaron and offers it to Neil. “There’s toast if you want some?”

Neil forces himself to speak, trying to distract himself from the thought of Andrew possibly covering him with his blanket when he woke up and wondering what the fuck that means. “Thanks,” he croaks, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand and taking one of Nicky’s proffered slices of toast.

“How come you didn’t sleep in your bunk last night?” Aaron asks, slathering butter onto another piece of toast.

Neil looks over at Andrew but the blond doesn’t return his gaze. “Uh I couldn’t sleep so I came out here to write until I got tired; must’ve crashed after a while.”

Aaron nods absently, looking more interested in replying to whoever’s texting him – _Katelyn_ – rather than paying attention to Neil.

Nicky appears curious though. “Ooh did you write anything good?”

Neil shrugs, suddenly realising his journal isn’t in his hands anymore like it had been when he’d fallen asleep. He looks around frantically, shoving the blanket off his legs until Andrew kicks him and forces him to look up.

His journal is dangling from Andrew’s hand, closed and intact. Neil stops squirming and holds a hand out for it.

Andrew seems to consider him for a moment before eventually passing it over.

Neil feels his stomach roil at the thought of Andrew reading his journal, at _anyone_ reading it. At least seventy percent of it is songs _not_ for public consumption. Songwriting is his own personal therapy since the real thing never worked. It’s probably the only time he actually tries to make sense of the tangled mess of his emotions swirling around inside of him.

He doesn’t ask though because he doesn’t want to draw even more attention to it.

Thankfully Nicky and Aaron don’t seem to have noticed the little exchange, both absorbed in their phones. Nicky smiles at his screen a second longer before looking up at Neil, whose journal is now safely tucked against his chest.

“We should talk to Wymack about changing the setlist and adding some of your songs,” he says earnestly. “You’re part of the band now too; it’s not fair that you have to sing all of our stuff and not get to share your own lyrics with the world.”

Neil starts shaking his head before he even finishes speaking. “It’s fine. I don’t mind. Besides the first show is tonight, we don’t have time to make you guys learn anything new.”

Nicky’s face falls a bit at that before perking up again a few seconds later. “We could rehearse in our downtime and debut it in a couple of weeks! I’m sure the fans would love it.”

Despite himself, Neil feels his stomach flip at the thought of people hearing his music but his nerves are almost just as prominent a feeling inside him. He could do it; it’s just a matter of deciding which part of himself he could possibly consider sharing with the world.

“I’ll think about it,” he finds himself saying eventually.

* * *

 

They arrive at the venue around midday and Neil’s eyes widen in wonder as he steps out onto the stage in the empty arena. For all the performances he’s done with The Monsters in the last couple of months, he hasn’t performed a full set in anywhere this size just yet.

It’s enormous and he can only imagine how much bigger it’ll look when it’s filled with fans. Kevin comes to stand beside him after a moment, nodding in approval as he scans the room.

“Get used to this sight,” he says.

“Don’t think I can,” Neil replies faintly, mouth curving up in an awed half-smile as he stares at the spot where the seats go so far back they all blend together in a black blur.

The sudden sound of a clatter has Kevin looking behind them and whipping around to bite the head off some poor, unsuspecting crewmember for dropping one of Aaron’s cymbals. He storms away from Neil, ranting as he goes about proper instrument care.

Neil spares a moment to roll his eyes at him before slipping back into mesmerised silence, letting himself envision the roaring crowd as the opening chords of the first song filter into the room. Electricity hums in his veins at the thought and he clenches his fists to hold it in. 9pm can’t come soon enough.

He turns around then, letting his gaze linger on each of his band members. Kevin has stopped yelling and is now glaring churlishly up at Wymack who’s no doubt lecturing him on the art of being polite. Nicky is helping some of the roadies carry in speakers and chatting amiably with them while Aaron seems to be discussing their mics with one of the sound technicians. Andrew is sitting on his own at the other end of the stage, legs dangling over the edge as he looks out across the arena.

Neil hesitates a moment before walking over to him and sitting down. Andrew doesn’t react but Neil can tell he’s aware of his presence.

“Are you nervous about tonight?” Neil ventures. He feels weird being around Andrew now after what happened last night on the bus. He still hasn’t figured out a way to ask if Andrew read his journal or not.

“Why would I be nervous?” Andrew responds in a bored tone. His gaze isn’t hungry the way Neil knows his own had been only moments ago; Andrew appraises the arena the same way one would when sitting in a waiting room.

“First performance in almost nine months,” Neil feels the need to point out.

Andrew casts him a sidelong glance. “And your first concert. You haven’t played a full show in an arena yet, Rookie.”

Neil lifts a shoulder in an uncaring shrug though it’s mostly an attempt to mask the way his stomach swoops at the thought. Andrew’s right. Most of the performances he did with The Monsters were for talk shows and the few concerts they did put on were all in smaller venues and were never full sets. Andrew’s helpful reminder just serves to set another bout of self-doubt churning in Neil’s mind and judging by the superior look on his face, that’s exactly what Andrew had intended.

Neil grits his teeth and forces his expression to remain smooth. “I can handle it,” he manages eventually.

“Let’s hope so,” Andrew says, using his hands to push himself away from the edge so he can stand up. “I won’t be saving your ass if you fail.”

With that, he brushes his hands together and leaves.

* * *

 

Neil goes through soundcheck in a daze, mind still reeling from the fact that he’s _actually here_. He’s going to perform on stage in front of thousands of people – something that hasn’t seemed possible since he was in high school. The fact that he gets to do it all without Riko at his side, waiting for him to trip up – or tripping him up himself when Neil would actually do something right – just makes the whole experience feel even more surreal.

They have dinner with The Upperclassmen once they’re finished and it serves to take Neil’s mind off the anxiety bubbling in his gut for half an hour while he listens to their ridiculous stories from the bus journey here. But then the girls and Matt are called away for hair and makeup to get ready for their set at 7:30.

By the time the rest of them leave for their own dressing rooms, Neil’s stomach is fluttering at an alarming rate. He can’t tell if it’s excitement or nerves anymore.

And being on his own, for once, doesn’t actually help him.

Stepping into his dressing room and leaving the cousins and Kevin to their own rooms is almost stifling. The silence is suffocating as he gets changed into his stage outfit – which isn’t that much different from his own outfit, really; just jeans and a t-shirt and more expensive boots – and his thoughts keep cycling through all the worst case scenarios. He could trip, he could sing out of tune, his guitar strings could snap in the middle of a song he could-

He’s almost relieved when Laila knocks on the door to do his hair and makeup. He closes his eyes while she works, letting her bubbly voice wash over him as she regales him with stories about her girlfriend.

She eventually lets him go, cuffing him on the back of the head with an affectionate, “Go get ‘em, kid.”

He climbs out of his seat and leaves the room, finding Aaron and Kevin already waiting in the corridor. Nicky steps out of his own dressing room no less than a second later and grins when he spots Neil.

“We’re just about to go watch the end of the guys’ set, wanna join?”

Neil nods gratefully at the distraction and ignores Kevin’s quip about needing to do some last minute rehearsal, letting Nicky shepherd him down the corridor until they reach the backstage area. It’s louder here. Neil can hear the crowd screaming along with Dan as she leads The Upperclassmen in one of their songs. He follows Nicky dumbly until they reach the side of the stage and he feels his breath catch.

He’s close enough to see out into the crowd and the vast sea of people makes Neil’s knees feel weak. The girls and Matt look incredible in their stage outfits, each of them beaming in their own signature smile as they pour their hearts into the song.

And for the first time in hours, Neil’s nerves dissipate until all he feels is anticipation. He wants his guitar, he wants Andrew and Aaron and Nicky and Kevin at his side. He wants to sing and he wants to play and he wants to hear the fans screaming lyrics back at them.

He’s ready.

Movement at his shoulder forces his eyes away from the spectacle in front of him and he cranes his neck to find Andrew by his side. They lock eyes for an indeterminable moment while Andrew appraises him.

“Looks like someone found their sea legs.” He has to say it loudly to be heard over the crowd but he still manages to cling to his usual bored tone.

Neil just grins and leans closer so Andrew will still hear him. “Watch your back out there, Minyard. I hear there’s a new guitarist that’s about to wipe the floor with your solos.”

Andrew raises an eyebrow, mouth twitching slightly. “Thought we were meant to be ending our rivalry tonight?”

Neil laughs, waving a hand dismissively. “Nothing wrong with a little bit of healthy competition,” he retorts with a challenge in his grin.

Andrew simply looks him up and down before saying, “We’ll see.”

 _Yes_ , Neil thinks as excitement zings through his veins. _We will_.

* * *

 

There’s ninety seconds until they go on stage and they’re standing in a huddle backstage.

The lights are down in the arena and the fans are chanting their name and Neil thinks his heart might be beating in time with their calls. Kevin and Nicky’s arms are heavy over his shoulders as Nicky runs them through a pep talk.

“Let’s show them that the wait was worth it,” he says fiercely, meeting each of their gazes with a glint in his eyes. “Let’s show them that we were great before but we’re on _fire_ now. We’ve _got_ this.”

Neil feels himself react to the words, feels the anticipation thrum inside of him the more worked up the crowd gets.

Kevin suddenly puts his hand into the middle of their huddle, prompting each of them to clap their hand on top of his. “On three,” he says in a surprisingly even voice but Neil can see the tension in the way his veins stand out against his neck.

Kevin counts them down and they all take one final look at each other before suddenly they’re moving, hurrying to enter through the side of the stage while the lights are still down. At first all Neil is concerned with is getting to his position and adjusting his guitar strap over his shoulder. He takes a second to make sure his mic is at the right height and then holds the guitar taut in his hand, fingers finding the opening chord of the first song and holding the strings in place.

He has just enough time to look over and see Andrew – the closest to him – throwing a challenging smirk in his direction before the lights go up and the arena explodes.

The crowd is deafening and it momentarily stuns Neil. So much so that he almost forgets to play but then he hears Aaron clacking his drum sticks together and his hands move of their own accord.

The first note rings out across the room and, somehow, the audience gets louder.

It’s a blur. But it’s most vivid blur Neil has ever witnessed. All his senses feel like they’ve been turned up to fever pitch. The music reverberating in his ears, the crowd screaming every time he sings a solo, the words he spent so long learning and perfecting, it’s like an out-of-body experience watching it all come together.

Nicky and Kevin take on the job of rousing the crowd in between songs, joking with them and talking about how excited they are to be here. There’s one point where Nicky leaves his position and comes to drape his arm over Neil’s shoulder before turning to the crowd at large. “And give it up for our baby guitarist over here!” he yells, laughing loudly when the crowd’s screams increase. “We loved him so much we just couldn’t let him go.”

“How’re you feeling, Neil?” Nicky asks him then, hand surreptitiously squeezing Neil’s shoulder in encouragement.

“It’s a lot to take in,” Neil replies, voice sounding winded. He thinks it has less to do with the singing and more to do with trying to wrap his head around what’s happening right now.

“Well _I_ think you’re doing fantastic,” Nicky tells him and even with the silly, exaggerated voice he puts on, Neil knows he means it. It serves to help Neil focus again as Nicky drifts away from him to talk to Andrew.

“Drew!” Nicky calls happily; he’d only ever get away with that on stage. Andrew would punch him any other time. “How’s it feel to be back? Did you miss us?”

“I considered every day without you in my presence a blessing,” Andrew replies tonelessly but the fans seem to know him well enough by now to know he’s joking. Or at least, _assume_ he’s joking; Neil’s not so sure.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, you liar,” Nicky shoots back. “You missed us.”

Andrew doesn’t reply which is as close to confirmation as they can ever hope to get so Nicky simply grins again and returns to his own mic stand. “Anyway we’re gonna let Andrew and Neil take the lead on this one. I know you know the words so you better sing along.”

As soon as Nicky finishes up Kevin begins the opening notes of Pipedream. The song is played primarily on the piano with the guitar supporting it in the chorus. Kevin’s fingers flow across the keys as Nicky and Aaron stay still, eyes on Andrew ah he starts to sing.

The lack of emotion on his face is still just as startling as it was the first time Neil saw it but his voice is still breath-taking.

When Andrew gets to the pre-chorus Neil readies his hands on his guitar, leaning closer to the mic. Counting down the seconds in his head, Neil takes a deep breath and then he begins to sing.

The effect his and Andrew’s voices have on the crowd isn’t lost on him. The noise would be deafening without his in-ears and it takes everything in him to concentrate on Andrew’s voice and just keep singing. There’s a part of him just wants to sit down and take all of this in.

The song ends eventually and Neil is still present enough to catch the look Andrew sends him before his attention is brought back to the crowd.

Neil finishes the rest of the songs running on nothing but pure adrenaline and by the time they take their final bow he’s so hyped up he’s shaking.

When they reach backstage the crew, The Upperclassmen and Wymack are all there waiting for them and greet them with a round of applause as soon as they come through the door. The change in noise level now that they’re away from the stage is so drastic that, for a moment, all Neil can hear is his own ears ringing.

But then Nicky groans and collapses on one of the couches set up for them and Neil is brought back to himself.

“That. Was. Awesome,” Nicky declares weakly, sprawled across the cushion with his eyes closed and a content smile spread across his face.

“I want to sleep for a week,” Aaron agrees, plopping down beside Nicky and clutching a pillow to his chest. Kevin is bouncing on his toes as he talks to Wymack, still full of nervous energy, while Andrew looks around the room calmly and Neil suddenly feels the effects of coming down from his adrenaline rush.

His knees are wobbly beneath him and he just about makes it to the couch before they give out completely and he sinks down, heaving an exhausted breath.

“Tired?” Aaron asks amusedly and Neil opens his eyes long enough to shoot him a glare.

“You get used to it,” Nicky promises with a laugh. “Just make sure you drink something with lots of sugar afterwards.”

“Or alcohol,” Kevin adds, finally taking a seat on the other couch.

“That’s ill-advised,” Dan laughs, suddenly appearing and perching on Neil’s armrest. “Even still, I think a start of tour party is in order.”

“Drinks in mine and Dan’s room when we get back to the hotel,” Matt adds, looking to each of them for confirmation – as if any of them would actually refuse – before breaking out in a beaming smile. Dan takes his hand as she stands up, leading him back towards where Allison and Renee are stopped so Renee can talk to Andrew.

“See you at home, Monsters!” Dan calls before allowing herself and the rest of the band to be ushered out to their waiting tour bus by security.

“Come on,” Wymack says, coming over and kicking Kevin’s foot. “You’re next. Let’s get you back to the hotel; the bus is waiting.”

Hauling themselves up off the couches, they follow Wymack out to their bus surrounded by the protective shell of their security.

Of all the things that’ve happened today, stepping onto the bus and instantly feeling like he’s home is somehow the most shocking.

* * *

 

It’s after an hour of watching his bandmates and support act get trashed in Dan and Matt’s room that Neil decides he needs some fresh air.

It’s not that he’s not enjoying himself; it’s just that today has probably been one of the most overwhelming days of his life and Neil is still an introvert at heart. He’d gotten so used to being alone before The Monsters that sometimes he still just needs a few minutes to himself to take everything in.

When the others are happily distracted with a game of Never Have I Ever Neil slips away, patting down his pockets for his pack of cigarettes as he cuts through the fire exit door at the end of the hall to reach the roof. It’s windy up there and freezing cold considering it’s after midnight but Neil gratefully takes in a lungful of the bitter air as he steps through the door.

The last thing he expects is to discover someone else already up there.

Andrew is sitting a few feet from the edge, lit cigarette in hand while he stares out over the skyline. He hadn’t joined them in Matt and Dan’s room but Neil never thought _this_ is where he’d find him.

He considers going back downstairs and just sitting on his balcony but Andrew isn’t the type to make small talk so Neil figures sitting with him is as good as sitting in solitude.

Andrew doesn’t look his way once while Neil sits down beside him and fishes his lighter and cigarettes out of his pocket.

It’s only when Neil lights his cigarette but doesn’t take a drag that Andrew looks at him. He doesn’t ask any questions and Neil doesn’t offer any answers so Andrew goes back to staring out over the city.

They sit in silence until time seems to slip away and it reminds Neil a little of the other night on the bus.

Andrew smokes. Neil holds his own cigarette in his hand and lets the smell calm him down.

He’s honestly surprised by how relaxed he feels in Andrew’s presence. He could probably count the number of legitimate conversations they’ve had in the past two and a bit months on both hands yet for some reason it just feels _easy_ sitting with him.

There’s no expectations, no stilted small talk, no need to do anything other than just breathe next to one another.

Eventually the cold is too much for Neil though. He stubs his cigarette out on the concrete and pushes himself to his feet, sparing Andrew one last glance before retreating to the door. He pushes a cinderblock in front of it to keep the door propped open just in case and leaves Andrew alone on the roof.

* * *

 

Over the next two weeks, Neil spends nine of his nights on the rooves of different hotels and venues with Andrew. Sometimes it’s after shows, sometimes it’s just for a few minutes, sometimes Neil gets there first but with the exception of nights spent on the bus it’s where they both always end up.

They never talk to each other when they’re up there and no one else knows that’s where they disappear to – nor that they disappear to the _same place_.

It becomes so habitual that Neil actually feels wrong sitting on the roof alone.

It isn’t until they’re on top of hotel roof in North Dakota that Andrew speaks to him for the first time.

It starts off like a normal night – Neil sits down and lights his cigarette while Andrew ignores him but then-

“You don’t smoke.”

Neil turns his head to the side to stare at Andrew. He looks impassive but Neil knows he wouldn’t have said anything if he didn’t expect an answer.

“No,” Neil agrees.

Andrew’s gaze shifts into something resembling a scowl when Neil doesn’t elaborate but eventually he sighs and flicks away his cigarette butt. “Truth for truth?”

The question makes Neil pause and he shuffles around so he’s facing Andrew, trying and failing to breach the inscrutable expression on his face. “What?”

Andrew sighs again like Neil is being difficult. “You tell me a truth and I tell you one back.”

“Like what?”

“What do you want to know?”

It’s too loaded a question and Andrew knows it judging by the look on his face but he doesn’t take it back. Neil contemplates it for a moment but the desire to learn more about Andrew outweighs his own issues about keeping his secrets close to his chest so he says, “Okay.”

“Why do you light cigarettes you never smoke?” Andrew asks without delay.

“The smell,” Neil answers honestly, staring at the wisp of smoke drifting up from the cherry of his own cigarette. “Reminds me of my mom. Makes me feel- calmer, I guess.”

“Kevin said she died when you were in high school.”

That was a polite way of putting it.

“My father killed her,” Neil states matter-of-factly, flicking his eyes away from the smoke only to find Andrew’s steady gaze boring into him.

He nods when Neil looks at him, accepting the information, before gesturing to Neil. “Your turn.”

Neil thinks about the million and one questions he’s had for Andrew since they met but it’s hard to hone in on any one of them specifically right now. “What did coming off your medication feel like?” is the question he settles on after much deliberation. He’s not sure if it’s the right one but Andrew answers nonetheless.

“Nothing,” he replies. “After the withdrawal wore off it was just- nothing.”

“So you can’t feel anything at all?” Neil asks incredulously, refusing to believe that that’s possible even if he’s been faced with Andrew’s unwavering apathy for the last couple of months.

“I’m trying,” Andrew says after an uncomfortably long period of silence. It’s a rare and raw piece of honesty that Neil doesn’t feel worthy enough to be privy to. “What do you think I’m doing up here?”

Neil scrunches up his face in confusion. “On the roof?”

“I don’t like heights,” Andrew elaborates.

“You’re trying to feel afraid,” Neil realises, heart clenching in his chest at the thought of fear being the easiest emotion for Andrew to tap into.

“Got it in one, Rookie,” Andrew intones, seemingly done with the conversation as he lights another cigarette.

“Can we take another turn?” Neil asks, hoping his voice doesn’t betray the sudden desperation he feels to pick Andrew’s brain. He doesn’t know what kind of weird, fucked up dynamic they have between them but Neil knows he wants to keep talking to Andrew, wants to learn how he works.

“Save it for another night when I’m feeling agreeable,” Andrew says, stubbing out his cigarette and snapping it in half to save the rest for later. Once it’s safely inside his pocket, he stands up and gives Neil the same two-fingered salute he’d done when he first joined the band and disappears back inside.

He’d never admit it if pushed, but Neil spends another half hour on the roof making a list in his mind of all the questions he plans to ask next time.

* * *

 

The next conversation doesn’t actually end up happening on the roof. It happens two days later in the lounge of their tour bus. Nicky is on The Upperclassmen’s bus since it’s less than a six hour drive to Minnesota and he and Matt had decided they were going to spend that time watching Disney movies. Aaron is skyping Katelyn in the bedroom and the last Neil checked Kevin was taking a nap.

Neil is busy tuning his guitar while Andrew sits on the other end of the couch. Neil hadn’t been paying much attention to him until he’d looked up and seen Andrew reading a book; almost an identical image to that of a few weeks ago when they’d both fallen asleep on the couch. He’s suddenly reminded of the journal hidden under his pillow and remembers he never asked Andrew what he did with it.

“Can we play again?” Neil asks, prompting Andrew to look up from his book as if he’d just been waiting for Neil to speak.

Andrew dog-ears the page he’d been reading and closes his novel. “Fine.”

“Did you read my lyrics?” Neil blurts out

Andrew almost actually looks _amused_ at the panicked note in Neil’s voice but in the end he gives an uncaring shrug. “Just the page it was open on,” he says.

Neil nods to himself. It’s not like the song he’d been working on was even incriminating, it’s just- he always feels like he’s giving a little bit of himself away when he writes and he’s not sure he’s ready to give that part of himself to Andrew just yet.

“What did you think?” he asks, already knowing he’s about to regret this.

“If you’re fishing for compliments you should ask Nicky,” Andrew recommends.

“That’s not an answer,” Neil tells him. “And the whole point of this is that we’re supposed to tell each other the truth.”

“And you already used up your question,” Andrew retorts. “So it’s my turn.”

Neil shuts his mouth, biting down on the remark on the tip of his tongue. Antagonising Andrew really doesn’t seem like a good idea.

“Why did your father kill your mother?” He asks it with such indifference that, for once, hearing the words don’t make Neil feel like he’s drowning.

If there’s one thing he’s learned about Andrew, it’s that he’s probably more equipped to endure the horrifying truths of Neil’s past better than almost anyone else.

“He worked for a business that acted as front for a human trafficking ring,” Neil answers after a moment, surprised at how quickly his voice hollows out. “The cops knew he was one of the ringleaders but they could never pin anything on him. One day when I was ten my mom tried to take me and run away but he caught us before we’d even left the state. He got more violent after that.”

Neil pauses to check Andrew’s expression but it’s still blank as ever so he grits his teeth and forces himself to keep going. “I was sixteen when my mom snapped and went to the cops herself. My dad killed her while they were too busy caught up in red tape.

“They got him in the end,” he murmurs, voice faraway and eyes focused on some spot behind Andrew’s shoulder. “He’s serving a life sentence in prison now.”

“What happened to you?” Andrew asks quietly.

“If I answer you have to let me take another turn,” Neil warns. He’s not used to giving out secrets for free and Andrew is no exception.

When the blond nods in acquiescence he keeps going.

“My Uncle Stuart came to live with me for a while but I became an emancipated minor at seventeen. We both knew me living with him could never work long-term.”

Andrew doesn’t say anything about Neil’s story and Neil feels inexplicably grateful. He doesn’t want sympathy or pity. Andrew asked for facts so Neil gave him facts. No more, no less.

“Your turn,” Andrew tells him when the silence has stretched too long.

Neil scrutinises him for a moment before thinking back to his earlier question. “Do you ever write songs?”

Andrew scoffs. “You know I do. We sing one every night.”

“Yeah and it’s a good fucking song,” Neil says. “So I want to know if you write more and why you don’t show people.”

“I imagine for the same reason you don’t show people,” Andrew comments, eyebrow raised.

Neil tries to imagine Andrew pouring his emotions into his lyrics. But for that to work Andrew would have to be capable of feeling more than apathy and he’s already admitted he hasn’t been very successful so far.

“Bee thinks songwriting is a good outlet for me.”

“Is she right?”

Andrew shrugs. “I don’t hate it.”

“Do you care about anything enough to hate it?” Neil asks sceptically.

Andrew stares at him for too long but Neil refuses to fidget under his gaze.

Eventually Andrew shrugs again and reopens his book. “I’m working on it,” he mutters.

That’s all he says before going back to reading. Neil decides to wait another minute or two to see if they’ll play another round but when he’s met with nothing but silence he reluctantly returns to tuning his guitar.

They sit like that until the bus pulls to a stop in Minnesota and Aaron and Kevin emerge from the bedroom. Andrew doesn’t so much as spare him a glance as he wanders off the bus but Neil can’t help feeling like there’s something different between them now.

He doesn’t even know why they’re telling each other everything, doesn’t know how Andrew wanting to know why he doesn’t smoke somehow turned into _this_ but the last two conversations have given Neil the ridiculous feeling that he suddenly understands Andrew better, like this is forming some sort of tenuous connection  between them.

He doesn’t dwell on it because he doesn’t let himself and instead indulges Nicky in answering his stupid questions for a Snapchat video about how excited for tonight they are. If his eyes sometimes stray to Andrew walking up ahead of them with Kevin, well, Neil doesn’t think anybody notices.

* * *

 

They’re only playing one show in Minnesota before they finally get three consecutive days off. It’s a big deal mostly because it means they don’t have to rush straight onto the bus as soon as they get off stage. To the majority of The Monsters and The Upperclassmen it translates to the perfect excuse to spend the night and most of the next day there before moving onto Wisconsin, giving them all a much needed break.

They’ve spent most of the last three weeks driving from state to state during their off days and for the first time all month Neil’s not actually sure what he’s going to do tomorrow since he doesn’t have a strict itinerary to abide by.

Nicky declares a real party tonight since they can spend the next day recovering without fear of motion sickness and he’s quickly met with a chorus of agreements. That’s all the prompting he and Allison need to go into planning mode. Nicky immediately starts googling good places to go out and Allison has her phone to her ear within seconds, organising what alcohol they’ll need back at the hotel.

Neil shakes his head amusedly as he watches them before turning back to his food. The two groups are currently eating dinner together before The Upperclassmen are due on stage in a couple of hours. Neil relishes in their post-soundcheck meals, mostly because the buzz of all the different conversations around him helps to ground him and shake off any stray nerves after rehearsal.

He’s half-listening to Kevin ranting about some reporter for The Sun when Wymack pokes his head in the door and calls for Andrew and Neil.

Neil sighs and shoves his plate away, hauling himself up from his chair to follow Andrew out to the corridor where Wymack is waiting. He doesn’t delay before taking them to one of the empty dressing rooms where they find Abby already seated and seemingly expecting them. Neil has the ridiculous feeling like they just walked into an inquisition.

“Take a seat, guys,” Wymack says, gesturing to the couch pressed against the far wall. They sit at opposite ends while Wymack grabs a spare chair for himself and places it next to Abby’s. Once he’s sitting, Wymack leans forward with his elbows on his knees and gives them both a frank look.

“So, the rivalry thing hasn’t quite died out as much as we’d wanted it to,” he begins and Neil winces since he knows Andrew won’t. ( _One of them_ has to have an appropriate reaction.)

“We’ve released a statement saying that we’d worked through the rough patches and that the entire band is closer than ever but the press aren’t biting.” Wymack scratches the day old stubble on his chin as he blows out a frustrated breath, letting Abby takes over.

“You have great stage chemistry,” she says with a complimentary smile. “You work well together and the fans can see that. In fact,” she hesitates, sharing a loaded look with Wymack. “There’s been quite a lot of talk amongst the fans about the two of you.”

Neil feels his brow furrow in confusion. He and Andrew barely interact off stage, not to mind _on it_. “Why?”

“It’s a new dynamic for them to analyse,” Abby placates instantly and Neil feels like she’s not saying everything. “The point is, _they_ don’t believe in the rivalry and it makes them even more interested in what kind of relationship you _do_ have.”

“We don’t have any kind of relationship,” Andrew replies almost as if daring Abby or Wymack to say otherwise.

“Be that as it may,” Abby says, clearing her throat uncomfortably. “We need to get the rest of the media on side. We’ve won the fans over but we need to convince the general public that the feud is over. We can’t afford the bad press.”

This is starting to sound like a stunt. Neil really hates stunts. “So, what? I tweet Andrew saying, “good job with your solo last night,” and then everything’s better?”

Wymack and Abby share another look. “Not exactly,” Wymack says. “We have a little bit of time in the middle of the set and we want you guys to fill it by performing a cover together.”

He continues before either of them have a chance to protest. “The fans will eat it up and it’ll show the media that, not only do you work well together on stage, but that you spend time together off stage too.”

Neil raises his eyebrows. “How, exactly?”

Wymack rolls his eyes and Abby gives him a disapproving look before smiling encouragingly in Neil’s direction. “We’ll spin it like you were just messing around before the show and ended up arranging the song together. It’ll work, trust us.”

Andrew, who’d been remaining largely silent for the entire interaction, finally speaks. “What’s my incentive?”

“Good press for your band?” Wymack reminds him pointedly. When Andrew only responds with an expectant look he huffs. “Fine. And a bottle of Walker Blue delivered straight to your dressing room every night you do as I say.”

Andrew nods in approval, inspecting his nails as he slouches back into the couch cushion. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Neil,” Abby prompts.

Neil stares at Andrew for a moment but when the blond refuses to look at him he simply shrugs, half nodding his head.

“Just the kind of enthusiastic agreement we were looking for,” Wymack says sarcastically. “We’ll give you a couple of shows to get it figured it out but it better be ready by this time next week.”

“Can we go back to dinner now?” Andrew asks disinterestedly.

Wymack rolls his eyes for the second time in five minutes and shoes them away. “Yes. Fine. Get out of my sight. I don’t get paid enough to put up with you idiots.”

They walk back to their makeshift cafeteria in silence even though Neil is dying to know what’s going through Andrew’s head right now. This is the last thing he’d expected when he stepped into the room with Wymack. Sure, he’s noticed they work well together but he certainly never expected anyone else to pick up on it. Especially to the point where people wanted to see them perform _on their own_.

Still, the thought excites him. Their styles are different but Andrew is undoubtedly one of the most talented guitar players Neil has ever met and the chance to work one on one with him on this is too good to pass up. No matter what ulterior motives their manager and publicist have.

Conversation halts the minute they step through the door and seven pairs of eyes immediately look to them. Andrew ignores every one of them and returns to his seat beside Renee. She courteously reins in her curious look and goes back to eating when he does but everyone else is still staring at Neil as he sits back down between Kevin and Matt.

After a painful thirty seconds of silence, Nicky is finally the one to bite the bullet. “So what did Wymack want?”

“He wants me and Andrew to arrange a cover together and add it to the setlist,” Neil answers matter-of-factly, reaching for his plate and popping one his fries in his mouth. He grimaces when he realises it’s gone cold.

The disbelief on each of their faces is evident; none of them have ever even see Neil and Andrew interact. A move like this doesn’t make sense the way it would for Nicky and Neil or Nicky and Andrew to do a cover together.

“Why?” Kevin asks, bewildered.

Neil shrugs. “Apparently the rivalry thing is still going on in the media so they’re trying to curb it.” When he takes a bite out of his chicken and finds that cold as well he gives up and pushes his plate away. “Said the fans would like it though.”

Nicky and Matt share a look similar to the one that passed between Abby and Wymack back in the dressing room and Neil narrows his eyes.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Matt asks in a voice Neil doesn’t trust.

“They’re interested in our dynamic or something?” he replies. He still doesn’t entirely understand what Wymack was getting at or why anyone would care about his and Andrew’s relationship – or lack thereof. Neil doesn’t think they even look at each other when they’re on stage.

Nicky lets out a squawk of laughter while Matt’s grin doubles in size. Kevin – and Aaron, who’s sitting beside Nicky and had been half listening before – look instantly disinterested in the direction the conversation is headed and proceed to ignore them. Meanwhile Allison and Dan suddenly lean closer, interest clearly piqued. Renee and Andrew remain locked in their quiet conversation at the other end of the table.

“Oh man, I need to tweet a thank you to our fans for always making me crack up,” Nicky laughs, one hand on his stomach and the other wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. Which seems like a pretty over-the-top reaction to what Neil said.

He’s definitely missing something.

“This is the best thing I’ve heard all day,” Matt agrees with a huff of laughter.

“I don’t get it,” Neil says, setting Nicky off into another round of hysterics.

“They _ship you_ , dumbass!” Nicky cries in between bursts of giggles. Allison watches him amusedly before turning her sharp grin on Neil.

“I still don’t understand,” he replies blankly.

Dan and Matt seem to take pity on him and set about explaining it to him. “They want you guys to date,” Dan tells him while Matt pats his shoulder sympathetically.

“But _why?”_ Neil’s starting to feel like a broken record. Literally nothing has made sense for the past twenty minutes.

“You’re both short guitarists with attitude problems; you’re a match made in heaven!” Nicky exclaims, dodging Aaron’s fist just in time.

Matt chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s just what fans do. They get invested in the different dynamics and three fifths of your band are related so they can’t exactly get behind that romantically – they probably feel deprived.”

Dan nods in agreement. “Right. There’s probably people that ship you and Kevin too.”

Neil makes a disgusted face while Kevin lets out an outraged noise beside him, grumbling, “Not if he was the last person alive,” under his breath.

Neil feels a headache coming on; this is easily the most ridiculous conversation he’s ever had to be a part of. “Whatever. Can we go back to talking about tonight please?”

The others accept his change of topic but not without a bit more friendly teasing at his expense. When conversation thankfully moves onto their plans for after the show Neil finds himself tuning out as his eyes drift to the other end of the table.

As if sensing he’s being watched Andrew looks up and meets his gaze only a moment later. It’s another one of those stares that seems to happen too frequently between them – the unsettling kind where Neil can’t tell what it means.

But perhaps the most unsettling thing of all is that Neil doesn’t want to look away.

* * *

 

The show goes off without a hitch and backstage is a flurry of activity once the concert ends with everyone rushing around trying to get ready to go out. Nicky and Allison had scoped out the clubs that afternoon and decided they would be going to some place called The Roxy before taking the party back to the hotel.

Neil grimaces when he finds the shopping bag of new clothes waiting for him on his vanity table when he returns to his dressing room but resignedly shucks off his sweaty stage t-shirt anyway. He’s pretty sure Nicky will never break the habit of forcibly buying him new clothes no matter how many times Neil says he can afford it.

To be fair, the outfit isn’t as ostentatious as Nicky normally goes for – just a pair of black jeans and a plain, black t-shirt with the word “free” embroidered with white thread over the breast pocket. The shirt is fitted without clinging to him so much that he’ll be nervously tugging it away from his scars all night. The jeans, on the other hand, stick to his legs like a second skin. He rolls his eyes when he examines them in the mirror - because of course Nicky would - before shoving his feet back into the boots he’d worn on stage and grabbing the ratty, old oversized denim jacket that he refuses to part with. He’s caught Nicky and Kevin trying to throw it out more than once but he’s remained steadfast.

Ruffling his hair and giving himself one last scant glance in the mirror, he pockets his phone, wallet and hotel key card and makes his way back to the lounge. Andrew, Aaron, Matt and Renee are the only ones there when he arrives. Aaron doesn’t even look up at his presence but Renee smiles while Matt gives him an encouraging thumbs up and says, “You look great, man!”

Neil smiles at them but even as he does he can feel Andrew’s stare burning holes in the side of his head. Feeling his stomach swoop and not really knowing why, he turns his head to meet Andrew’s gaze.

He’s sitting sprawled across his side of the couch, in black from head to toe that makes his pale blond hair stand out even more. He can just make out the beginnings of Andrew’s armbands under the cuffs of his leather jacket.

Everything about him screams danger; Neil doesn’t know why he feels compelled to move closer.

Yet again, the look they share is one that Neil is becoming accustomed to. It’s as if there’s an unspoken conversation happening between them but Neil hasn’t learned the language yet.

He doesn’t get any more time to think on it before a wolf whistle from behind him is snapping him out of his trance. He spins around and finds Nicky being pushed through the door by an amused Allison.

Nicky’s jaw is hanging open while he surveys Neil’s attire and Neil is seriously considering calling Erik and making him put a leash on his boyfriend. “Damn Neil! Who knew you could dress yourself?!”

Neil looks down at his clothes confusedly. He knows Nicky definitely isn’t talking about the jacket. “I thought you got me these clothes?” he asks, picking at the shirt before looking up and watching Nicky’s face scrunch up.

“I didn’t get you anything,” he replies slowly. “I didn’t have time between organising stuff with Allison.” At her name, Nicky and Neil both look to the blonde standing beside him but she just shakes her head.

“Don’t look at me. I didn’t buy them either.”

Neil turns around again, Andrew’s intense stare from earlier suddenly making more sense. “You-?” He leaves the question hanging but with the exception of Andrew’s shoulders tightening he remains as unfazed as always.

“Nicky said you’re incapable buying decent clothes,” he says by way of an answer.

Neil stares at him, thinking back to what he’d first noticed about clothes. Andrew hasn’t seen his scars but he knows enough to know Neil won’t get changed in front of other people or wear particularly tight shirts. And Neil has heard the way Nicky and the girls compliment his runner’s legs so many times it doesn’t even surprise him anymore. Still, he didn’t think _Andrew_ had noticed.

“Thanks,” Neil mumbles eventually, voice lacking all of its usual snark, because he has to say _something_ but his brain hasn’t quite caught up with what’s happened just yet.

Andrew only gives him a cool look in return.

Dan arrives at that moment with Kevin in tow after calling a goodbye to someone out in the hallway – probably Wymack – and greets the room at large with a simple, “Cars are ready.”

At that, Aaron finally deigns to put down his phone and sit up straight. “ _Finally_. Can we go?”

In all the shuffling it takes to get out of the room and out to the cars Neil ends up separated from Andrew. But as he’s sitting, squashed into the backseat next to Dan he can’t help running his fingers over the small, white “free” printed on his shirt.

He doesn’t think about what it means that Andrew is the one who picked that out for him.

* * *

 

The club is swarmed with people by the time they arrive but one look at the familiar faces of the group has one of the bouncers hurrying forward to let them skip the queue and ushering them straight through to the VIP section.

That’s still bizarre to Neil – the whole being recognised thing. But not only that, actually getting _perks_ because he’s been recognised. Neil is used to seedy dive bars where the owner would let him play a few songs on a makeshift stage in exchange for free beer. The sleek couches that line the walls and neon lights of the VIP section are like a different world to him.

They find two tables pushed together that they quickly commandeer which almost seems like a waste when half the group immediately disappears onto the dancefloor upon receiving their drinks. Within ten minutes the only people left at the table are Andrew, Kevin, Renee and Neil.

Neil and Renee stick to soda while Andrew chases down a couple of shots with a tumbler of scotch; meanwhile Kevin is downing his vodka soda like his life depends on it. Neil knows he’s far gone when Kevin actually allows Allison to drag him onto the dancefloor after she returns to the table to collect Renee.

By then all that’s left is him and Andrew and a bunch of empty glasses.

Andrew doesn’t seem to have noticed or cared that everyone has vacated the table except them, too busy either staring at the contents of his glass or blindly watching the crowd.

“Any idea what cover we’re going to do yet?” He has to yell to be heard over the music but Neil knows Andrew understood him.

Andrew slides a bored look in his direction before leaning closer to answer. “If you’re looking for small talk, try again. I’m not talking about work tonight.”

Neil quirks his lips bemusedly. “It’s not small talk, it’s a legitimate question.”

Andrew rolls his eyes, setting his now empty glass down. “Whatever song we pick, you’re going to butcher the chords on it anyway so it doesn’t matter.”

Neil lets out a surprised laugh. If it were Kevin, he’d consider it an insult but with Andrew he knows it’s nothing more than pointless baiting.

“I don’t know why you’re so insistent on making out like we hate each other.”

Andrew casts another look at him, eyes narrowed. “I do hate you.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” Neil challenges.

“You’re insufferable ninety percent of the time.”

“I’m one of the only people you tolerate for extended periods of time,” Neil fires back. “Or were all those nights on the roof just really elaborate fever dreams?”

“Ever heard the phrase keep your friends close and your enemies closer?” Andrew remarks disinterestedly.

“Yes. I just don’t think that’s what you’re doing.”

“That’s not my problem.”

Neil bites back a smirk, raising his eyebrows expectantly. “Okay fine. If I’m insufferable ninety percent of the time what about the other ten percent?”

Andrew seems to consider his answer for a moment before eventually settling on, “A mildly entertaining distraction.”

“I’m flattered.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

Neil has to hide his grin behind the rim of his glass.

* * *

 

It’s inevitable that they end up back on the roof.

Andrew doesn’t even consider going to Allison’s room, just stalks straight past to the fire exit door. Neil manages another twenty minutes downstairs with everyone else before he follows him.

It’s freezing up there at two in the morning but the chill in his lungs serves to clear Neil’s head a little bit after the pounding noise of the club. Andrew is sitting with his back against the wall when Neil finds him, a bottle of Jack Daniels set down beside him and a lit cigarette held loosely between two fingers. His hair is dishevelled from the wind and his face is smooth as he stares Neil down.

(Neil is suddenly starting to think he recognises the feeling he gets in the pit of his stomach every time he’s looked at Andrew tonight.)

He sits down next to him uninvited, making sure to leave a healthy space between them as Andrew offers him the bottle. Neil hadn’t drank at the club but something tells him he’ll need a little bit of Dutch courage to keep him up here with Andrew tonight.

He takes a swig and sets it down again, fishing in his pocket for his own box of cigarettes and a lighter, exhaling an unsteady breath when the smell of smoke instantly makes him feel more centred. In his head he can hear his mother’s voice screeching at him about liabilities. He moves half an inch closer to Andrew anyway.

They sit in silence for a while and despite the mess of Neil’s insides he still finds himself relaxing the longer they sit together. Neil’s always thought the real measure of someone is how long you could stand to remain in silence with them without feeling uncomfortable. He thinks he could spend the rest of his life sitting in silence with Andrew and probably still feel content.

Eventually though, he does start to feel restless. Not uncomfortable, just- too consumed with quashing down his desire to talk. So he puts out his cigarette and picks up the whiskey to take another pull.

“Can we take another turn?” he asks, rolling the half empty bottle of Jack between one hand and the other.

Andrew makes a noise beside him and Neil looks up to find himself on the receiving end of a considering look. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to learn all my secrets.”

“Not all,” Neil disagrees. “Just some.”

Andrew peers at him a moment longer before taking a drag of his cigarette and waving his hand in resignation. “Fine.”

“Why do you tell me any of this stuff in the first place?” It’s not the question Neil means to ask but at the same time, it’s something he’s been dying to know. Everything he knows about Andrew tells him he’s not the type to bare his soul to just anyone. Neil doesn’t understand why he’s the exception.

Andrew doesn’t answer at first, taking his time pulling from the bottle Neil had set down between them. Eventually he tips his head back against the concrete wall behind him and cranes his neck to the side to catch Neil’s eye. “Maybe I want to learn all your secrets too and I believe in fair trade.”

Neil stares at him in disbelief. He’s not sure if he believes him but he’s also sure that Andrew may be a lot of things but he’s not a liar. “But _why?”_

Andrew shrugs, a careless kind of tilt to his lips as he brings his cigarette to his mouth again. “I don’t understand you.”

“I thought I was easy to read?” Neil still remembers how quickly Andrew had figured him out that first night and how unsettling it was to have one of his deepest wants callously laid bare by what had essentially been a stranger.

“You are,” Andrew agrees before amending, “Parts of you.”

Neil hears what he doesn’t say in that moment. He knows the reason Andrew can read him is the same reason he can read Andrew. “The parts of me that remind you of yourself.”

Andrew tips the bottle neck towards him in acknowledgment. “I’m still working on the other parts,” he tells him.

“I’m not a math problem,” Neil feels the need to say.

The corner of Andrew’s mouth twitches in an almost smirk. “But I’ll still solve you.”

Neil swallows at the promise in Andrew’s voice. He knows they won’t stop. They’ll never stop until they’ve picked each other apart and laid all their broken and jagged pieces out for inspection. He’s not sure the thrill he feels at the thought is the response he’s meant to have but he’s starting to accept that nothing about his reactions to Andrew makes sense.

He’s like a naked flame – full of danger and screaming _do not touch_ – and yet all Neil wants to do is reach out. He’s not sure but thinks the burnt fingers might be worth it.

“Your turn,” he prompts quietly, fingers brushing Andrew’s as he takes the bottle from him. It takes a moment to remind himself that the sting he feels is all in his head.

“Where were you before Kevin found you?”

It’s not what Neil had been expecting but he answers nonetheless. “On my way to Arizona. I never stayed in one place for very long after high school. Riko wasn’t happy when I turned down the record deal, especially after losing Kevin a few months before. He never came after me but I was paranoid enough to keep moving. I changed my name and everything.”

Andrew actually looks surprised at the last piece of information. “Neil isn’t your real name?”

“It is now,” Neil replies. “I changed it officially when I signed the first contract.”

“What was your name before?”

Neil feels himself clam up the moment he even thinks the name _Nathaniel_ and he knows he’s not ready to say it out loud yet. “That’s a truth for another day,” he says, hating the rawness to his own voice.

Andrew nods in acceptance and waits for him to finish with the rest of the story.

“I had the money from my mom’s insurance payout and my Uncle Stuart set up a savings account for me too but mostly I just used the money I got from busking and stayed in hostels. I’d hitchhike or take a bus depending on where I was going, usually moving onto a different town or state every couple of weeks.”

“How long were you planning on keeping that up for?” Andrew asks while Neil pauses to shake the memories out of his head. Looking back, he doesn’t know how he did it for so long.

He shrugs, lips tugging up involuntarily. “I don’t know. Kevin called before I really had a chance to make a different plan and I’ve been here ever since.”

Andrew nods and doesn’t say anymore. He flicks his cigarette butt away but doesn’t light another one, eyeing the bottle of whiskey for a moment before ultimately leaving it where it is. As Neil watches him he can’t help but think about what his life would be like now if Andrew hadn’t told Wymack to let him stay. Just the _thought_ of being alone again feels so suffocating Neil forgets for a minute how to get air back into his lungs.

He never thought in a million years Andrew Minyard would be the one to offer him a permanent home.

Acting braver than he feels, he calls for Andrew’s attention. “Hey.”

When Andrew looks over expectantly Neil wets his lips, fingers clenching and unclenching in a nervous habit. “Thank you,” he says.

“For what?”

“For letting me stay.”

Andrew looks away so quickly Neil is dying to reach out and turn his face back towards him - if only to see what he’s trying to conceal.

“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” Andrew says, tone harsh and deflective and a defence mechanism if Neil has ever seen one.

“Like what?” Neil asks.

Andrew huffs and meets his gaze again, glare firmly in place and marring his normally smooth expression. “Like I’m your answer.”

“You’re the one looking for answers, not me.” He’d meant it to be a sarcastic comment harkening back to the stupid math problem remark from earlier. Watching the way Andrew’s frown become more pronounced, he knows it hits a little bit deeper than that.

Wanting to take that look off Andrew’s face, Neil quickly attempts to redirect the conversation. “Truth for truth,” he requests.

Andrew remains tense beside him but after a moment he offers a curt nod.

Neil’s throat bobs and, inexplicably, he palms feels sweaty as he tugs his knees up to his chest. He watches Andrew’s eyes first then slowly, deliberately lets his gaze drift lower until it’s resting on Andrew’s mouth. “I might kiss you,” he mumbles.

He flicks his eyes back up to Andrew’s and is shocked to find the glare gone, only to be replaced with an indiscernible glint of something Neil doesn’t recognise.

Andrew’s jaw works for half a breath and then his gaze sharpens as he turns his upper body more fully towards Neil. “I might let you.”

In an instant the only sound Neil can hear is his heart pounding in his ears. His throat is dry and he swallows reflexively, suddenly unsure of what to do. Kissing Andrew has been an intrusive, confusing thought ticking away in the back of his head for the past couple of days and Neil has been cycling between refusing to acknowledge it and obsessively thinking about it. Mostly because he can’t remember the last time he’s _ever_ wanted to kiss someone.

But he knows now. That the strange fizzle he feels in his stomach every time he looks at Andrew is a feeling he’d long since forgotten about.

 _Attraction_.

He’s not sure how much time has passed when Andrew finally puts a hand down flat on the concrete between them to keep his balance and murmurs, “Don’t move.”

Neil stays stock still, knowing that even if they amount to nothing, this is a big deal. Knowing Andrew hasn’t likely done anything with _anyone_ since before last November.

It happens so slowly at first. Andrew inches closer and closer like he’s bracing himself and there’s a moment where their lips are almost touching and Neil can feel the phantom brush of their noses and the world hangs in the balance.

It can’t last more than a few seconds but Neil is certain they’re suspended in time in that moment. Both of their breaths coming out harsher than they really should be, eyes already hooded and on their way to closing, mouths parted slightly as if in anticipation until Andrew finally, finally closes the distance.

It happens so slowly. And then it’s like a gunshot at the beginning of a race. Andrew surges forward and clutches the front of Neil’s shirt to hold him place. Neil’s hands curl into fist where they’re planted on the ground on either side of him. Their mouths crash together and it’s the first clap of thunder after watching stormclouds roll across the sky for hours.

Andrew kisses him like he has a point to prove, like they’ve been fighting this whole time and he’s finally winning.

One of his hands finds Neil’s hair and twists between the strands and Neil barely suppresses the shiver it elicits. He opens his mouth when Andrew’s tongue prods at the seam of his lips, an involuntary sigh escaping him as Andrew deepens the kiss. His lips feel numb and he’s itching to reach out and hold onto Andrew but he doesn’t dare touch, doesn’t dare move any part of his body besides his head.

He’d known what he was doing when he told Andrew what he wanted – he’d been giving up control. It has to be Andrew’s call, his move, his boundaries right now or this won’t work.

As if reading his mind, Andrew makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and rips his mouth away from Neil’s. “Tell me to stop,” he orders but Neil doesn’t want to stop.

He’s never kissed anyone like this before. He’s never had someone’s mouth on his set off grenades in his brain and his chest and his stomach. He’s never felt this craving for _more,_ never felt the need to keep going or move closer. He doesn’t know what he’s doing but he knows he doesn’t want it to end.

So he shakes his head and mumbles, “Don’t want to.”

The words get jumbled as their lips bump together in the close proximity and all it does is serve to remind Neil what kissing Andrew feels like. It makes him want to lean in again. But he doesn’t.

He waits. Because it’s still Andrew’s call.

Andrew’s eyes are open and boring into his. One of his hands is still clutched in Neil’s hair while the other is fisted in the front of his shirt and Neil allows him to stare as long as he needs to, allows him to search for whatever he’s looking for.

In the end Andrew leans in once more to press a lingering kiss to Neil’s mouth before releasing him.

They stare at each other for another time-bending minute until Andrew finally tears his gaze away and fishes another cigarette out of his pocket. He barely smokes half of it before he’s handing it off to Neil with a significant look and going back inside.

Neil waits until the cigarette has burned down to the filter before doing the same.

*


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have a question,” he begins, hesitating a moment when he comes to stand in front of Andrew. Before he can think better of it, he kneels down so they’re more or less eye to eye.
> 
> Andrew arches an eyebrow but otherwise doesn’t reply, waiting for him to continue.
> 
> “If I asked you to kiss me again, what would you say?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter two!!! The response to part one has been _overwhelming_ , words cannot express how thrilled I am that you're all enjoying it so far!! :')
> 
> Shoutout to tina for giving me a random german word for Erik and Nicky to use when i needed it, u are a tru mvp <3
> 
> The two songs used in this chapter are:  
> Desperado - Rihanna  
> Wild - Troye Sivan feat. Alessia Cara  
> (They're also both linked in the chapter if you feel like listening!!)
> 
> as always, you can also find me at [ littlespooneven](http://littlespooneven.tumblr.com/) :') so without further ado, enjoy <3

When Neil wakes up the next morning he’s unsurprised to find Do Not Disturb signs on The Upperclassmen’s and the rest of his bandmates’ bedroom doors. He shakes his head to himself, checking the time on his phone as he closes his own door behind him. It’s ten in the morning and he’s ninety percent sure no one else will be surfacing for at least another two hours.

Neil decides to use the time to himself to go for a run. He plans to stick close to the hotel but only because he knows Wymack would have his head if he got lost when fans are still lingering nearby. As if to prove his point, he ends up being stopped slipping out of the hotel despite going out the side door.

There’s only three girls waiting though so he pauses a minute to talk to them and take a few pictures once they promise not to post them on any social media for another couple of hours – the last thing he needs is a stampede following behind him while he tries to go on his morning run.

He circles the block a few times until the sun overhead becomes too hot for him to bear and he stops to catch his breath. He starts to jog back towards the hotel at an easy pace but it’s only a few minutes later when the hairs on the back of his neck are standing up as he notices a car following him out of the corner of his eye. He’s getting ready to take off running again when the window rolls down and he’s met with blond hair and almost-amused eyes.

“So where were you gonna run away to this time?” Andrew asks dryly, slowly rolling the car forward to keep pace with Neil. It’s a Maserati and looks almost exactly like Andrew’s own car back in LA.

Neil elects to ignore that jab and instead incredulously asks, “Where the fuck did you get a car?”

“I went to a car dealership,” he says as if that’s entirely normal when they’re in the middle of tour and only in Minnesota for a number of hours. “They’re letting me take it for a test drive.”

Neil raises his eyebrows in bewilderment. “ _Why?”_

“I’m sick of the bus and I feel like going for a drive.”

It’s a normal enough response, he supposes. Neil, himself, misses driving - since they’d been pretty much stationed in LA prior to Andrew’s release it had been a nice way for him to run away without going very far. Driving always helped him after particularly stressful or overwhelming days.

“So are you coming?” Andrew asks expectantly, finally braking and making Neil hesitate too.

“What?”

Andrew huffs, looking like he’s wondering why he even bothers wasting his time on Neil. “You want to work on the song, don’t you?”

Neil does. Neil also suddenly remembers that last night was _real_. That the feeling of Andrew’s lips on his and Andrew’s hands on his chest aren’t just a figment of his imagination. He doesn’t know if it’s going to happen again or if they’re going to ignore it for the rest of their lives but what Neil does know is that he’ll take whatever Andrew will give him. And right now Andrew is offering him a drive.

So they’re going to go for a drive.

He climbs into the passenger seat and has only just fastened his seatbelt when Andrew begins to zoom down the street.

“There’s water,” Andrew tells him, nodding to the drink holder behind the console without taking his eyes off the road.

Neil gratefully grabs one of the bottles since he’d forgotten to take one with him when he left the hotel this morning and takes a much needed drink. It’s slightly bizarre to imagine Andrew consciously bringing water for him because he’d known Neil was a on a run but he tries not to think about it.

He manages to keep his eyes off Andrew and focused on the open window while they put some distance between themselves and the city but as soon as they’re on open road Neil finds his gaze drifting.

He’s never really took the time to study Andrew before, always too unnerved to stare at him for extended periods of time, but now he can’t really make himself look away.

Andrew has a face like marble. From the ski-slope straight nose to the strong jawline to the hollows beneath his cheekbones, he looks like something even the most talented sculptor couldn’t dream up. His hair is blowing in the breeze from the open windows and his eyes are sharp on the road and Neil doesn’t think he’s ever experienced a want like this before.

“You’re staring,” Andrew says after a few minutes have passed. He says it in the same mundane tone one would use to comment on the weather but it doesn’t sound like a reprimand so Neil doesn’t stop.

“Yeah,” he agrees, catching the brief flick of Andrew’s scowl in his direction. “Do you want me to stop?” Because he will - if Andrew wants him to.

“I already told you last night not to look at me like that.”

At the mention of last night, Neil feels his throat bob, absentmindedly wetting his lips as he tears his gaze away from Andrew to look out the windshield. It’s too early in the morning for him to be trying to figure out what last night meant.

“Can I turn on the radio?” he asks instead, deciding he’s not quite ready to confront where they go from here just yet.

Andrew waves a hand in dismissal which Neil takes to mean _yes_ so he leans forward to switch it on, changing stations a few times until he settles on something easy on the ears.

They don’t talk which is pretty much the usual for them - Andrew drives while Neil watches the passing scenery speed by. He thinks idly about what songs they could cover but truthfully, his mind is still occupied with their kiss. No matter how much he tries to push it aside or tell himself he’ll figure it out later he can still feel Andrew’s mouth on his, can still remember the intensity in Andrew’s eyes right before he leaned in.

Before he knows it, they’re stopping seemingly in the middle of nowhere, pulling over onto the hard shoulder off the main road. Andrew unceremoniously climbs out of the car as soon as he’s turned off the ignition, slamming the door behind him. Neil watches him perplexedly as he rounds the car to the trunk; it’s only at the sight of two familiar guitar cases in his hands that Neil actually opens his own door.  Andrew shoves Neil’s case into his hands as he passes him before hopping up on the hood of the car.

Neil considers asking what they’re doing but he knows he’ll either get an insanely obvious answer or a dead stare in response so he just sets his case on the hood and hauls himself up to sit next to Andrew. Andrew already has his own guitar in his lap, one arm slung over it to hold it in place while he scrolls through his phone with the other. After a minute, he settles on something and shoves the phone into Neil’s hand.

It’s open on a page of lyrics and while Neil might not be up to date on popular music, he still recognises the artist. Raising his eyebrows, he looks up from the phone to question Andrew. “Didn’t think Rihanna would be your thing?”

Andrew says, “Nicky,” by way of explanation. Which is all he needs to say, really.

Neil grins before looking back down at the phone to read through the lyrics, faltering a little when he comes to the line about runaways. It feels a little like the song describes him and Andrew. Whatever strange dynamic they have between them, this is probably closest thing to an explanation for what they are to each other that he’s seen.

Not quite friends, not quite more than that, but allies, maybe.

When he’s finished reading through the lyrics he sets the phone down between them, finally relenting to meeting Andrew’s heavy gaze.

“Want to try it out?” Neil asks uncertainly.

Andrew nods, positioning his fingers on the strings of his guitar. “I already know the chords, just follow along while we practice the lyrics and we can arrange it properly later.”

Neil inclines his head in acquiescence, pulling his own guitar into his lap and gesturing for Andrew to start.

The first “ _Desperado…_ ” that falls from Andrew’s lips sends shivers down Neil’s spine. He watches Andrew’s hands for a few bars before clumsily following along with the chords, eyes on the lyrics still open on Andrew’s phone as he joins him.

He can tell instantly the song will work. It’s rougher than the kind of style The Monsters usually play but it works for them, giving their harmonies a grittier edge than what they’re used to and sending Neil’s nerve-endings firing.

As soon as they finish the first run through Andrew immediately starts sectioning off which parts they should sing separately and which parts they should sing together and Neil is fascinated watching him work. Andrew so rarely talks for long periods of time and always seems so disinterested in music but seeing the way he quickly breaks the song down and divides it up to play to both their strengths Neil knows he’s not. Nobody can be that attuned to something and not care about it.

They play the song again, trying out the vocal arrangement Andrew suggests before playing it _again_ and switching verses. It’s after five more run-throughs when they both more or less have the lyrics memorised that they move onto arranging the music.

If Neil had thought discussing the lyrics was fascinating to watch, it’s nothing on arranging the melody. They toy with different techniques and different chords, debating back and forth over what to change and what to keep the same, before finally settling on an arrangement they’re both happy with and trying it with the lyrics.

They play for so long Neil loses track of time. It’s only when his stomach starts to rumble that he actually realises how hungry he is, having skipped breakfast before his run. Andrew, for once deciding to be conscientious, obediently stops playing and climbs off the hood of the car to drive them back to the hotel so they can get something to eat.

Ravenous appetite aside, Neil feels a little wistful getting out of the car when they get back to the hotel. Working with Andrew is always a welcome challenge and getting the chance to escape for a while felt really good. One of their assistants takes the car keys off Andrew once they pull up to the hotel, intending on taking it back to the dealership for him. Neil only understands why when they step through the foyer and find Wymack waiting for them with his arms folded menacingly over his chest.

“A suggestion,” he starts as soon as they’re close enough to hear him. “Next time you plan to disappear in a strange state without bodyguards or even without mentioning it to anyone, maybe text me and let me know.”

Andrew offers Wymack a bland look while Neil looks down at his feet – mostly so Wymack won’t see the lack of remorse on his face.

“We figured out what cover we’re going to do,” he offers in consolation, biting back a smirk when he catches their manager’s steely gaze waver.

Eventually Wymack sighs and drops his arms in defeat. “Have it ready by the next show and I won’t sic Abby on the two of you.”

Andrew waves him off with nothing more than a bored expression while Neil mutters a weak, “Got it,” before Wymack dismisses them. Neil checks his phone in the elevator and finds a string of texts from his bandmates and The Upperclassmen informing him they’re all eating room service in Matt and Dan’s room so Neil heads for their door as soon as the elevator opens. Andrew, surprisingly, follows him but before Neil can comment on it Dan is opening the door.

If she’s surprised to find the two of them together she doesn’t mention it with the exception of her raised eyebrows. Neil chooses to ignore that look and shuffles past her when she steps back to let them in. He sets his guitar case by the door while Andrew does the same and half-smiles when he’s greeted with a chorus of ‘Good Morning’s. Neil wants to point out it’s after midday and hasn’t been what could be considered the morning for hours now but he refrains in favour stealing some of leftovers from everyone else’s brunch.

“What were you two doing?” Allison asks curiously, obviously feeling the bravest this morning despite the princess pyjamas she’s wearing and what appears to be last night’s makeup still smudged under her eyes.

Finding no reason to lie, Neil answers. “I went for a run and then Andrew picked me up and we worked on our cover.”

He’s _not_ lying but he doesn’t feel like he’s telling the whole truth either.

Nicky waggles his eyebrows at his answer, likely because of the shipping conversation yesterday but Neil doesn’t have the energy to entertain him so he just climbs onto the bed with his plate piled high and takes the space Kevin makes for him. With nine of them on one king sized bed it’s a tight squeeze, meaning when Andrew squashes in between him and Nicky they’re pressed together from shoulder to thigh.

It’s strange, Neil thinks, how one half of him can be touching Kevin and he barely even registers it yet the side of him that’s touching Andrew feels like it’s on fire. He’s never particularly questioned his lack of attraction to other people, especially after his mother almost beat the possibility out of him altogether to ensure anything about his father’s business or their plans to run never came out, and he’s always partly known he’s still had the _potential_ to be attracted to someone one day but to have it so obviously laid out in front of him as it is right now is somewhat staggering.

The truth is, for all he’d tried kissing people or even sleeping with people in the past once he’d been far away from his mother’s grasp, it’d just never felt like anything. He didn’t exactly hate it but it just left him feeling empty inside. He didn’t look at people the way others did, he knew that and he’d long since learned to accept it.

But all of that just makes his attraction to Andrew all the more overwhelming to deal with.

He doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know how to handle it, forty-eight hours ago he hadn’t even been sure if he really felt it. But then last night happened and now it feels like his world has been turned upside down.

He’s sure of one thing though, he’ll happily burn from the inside out if he always gets to keep Andrew this close.

* * *

 

They don’t do much for the rest of their day off – mostly they just laze about the hotel until it’s time to check out before piling onto their respective buses. They don’t arrive in Wisconsin until the middle of the night and everyone is so exhausted from the dregs of their hangovers and all the travelling that the majority of both bands head straight to their hotel rooms to crash.

Well, everyone except Neil.

He’d managed to nap for a few hours on the bus but his mind is far too awake for sleep to come easily tonight. Once getting to his hotel room he drops his bags and takes a shower to get the sweaty travel feel off him and hopefully clear his head but by the time he’s dressed for bed his brain is still a mess of too many thoughts.

He paces his room for a few minutes before he finally cracks and makes his way to Andrew’s room before he can think better of it. He doesn’t know what he plans to say or what he plans to do but when Andrew opens the door looking sleep-rumpled and much softer than usual all that comes out of his mouth is, “Hey.”

Andrew stares at him for a moment before rolling his eyes and wandering back inside. He leaves the door open though so Neil takes it as permission to enter.

“What do you want?” Andrew asks, dropping down onto the end of his bed while Neil closes the door behind himself.

“I have a question,” he begins, hesitating a moment when he comes to stand in front of Andrew. Before he can think better of it, he kneels down so they’re more or less eye to eye.

Andrew arches an eyebrow but otherwise doesn’t reply, waiting for him to continue.

“If I asked you to kiss me again, what would you say?”

Andrew’s expression, that had been only slightly tense before, completely shutters. “I’d say you’re fucking deluded, Josten.”

“Why?” Neil asks softly.

Andrew casts him a scornful look but Neil notices the way his hands twist in the comforter on either side of him like he’s agitated. “I thought you didn’t swing?” he fires back rather than actually answering Neil’s question.

“I don’t,” Neil agrees. “Just because I’m looking at you doesn’t mean I’m looking at Matt or Nicky or even _Aaron_ differently. You’re the only one holding my interest.”

Andrew’s scowl, inexplicably, deepens. “How does that work?”

Neil quirks his lips bemusedly. “Do you want the dictionary definition of demisexuality or do you want me to draw you a diagram?”

Andrew’s jaw is clenched as he attempts to stare Neil down but it doesn’t work. Neil is used to their staring contests by now.

Andrew breaks after a moment, looking away and releasing a harsh breath. “If you think I’m about to be your little experiment-“

“I don’t!” Neil cuts in quickly, leaning forward but making sure to still stay out of Andrew’s personal space. “I- Look, I did the experimenting thing when I left high school, alright? And I hated it because deep down I never really _wanted_ to do anything with those people. But this- I want this.”

“And what exactly would _this_ entail?” Andrew asks, voice strained in his attempt to keep any inflection out of it.

Neil shrugs idly, picking at the carpet under his palms. “Whatever you want.”

The silence that stretches between them goes on for so long that Neil feels the need to say more.

“It’s fine if you hate me,” he whispers, looking at Andrew with blank-faced assurance as he waits for him to decide what to do.

The words stir something in Andrew and he carefully leans forward until their faces are a few inches apart. His gaze flits all over Neil’s face like he’s searching for something before finally settling on Neil’s mouth. “Yes or no?”

Neil’s throat bobs and his fingers clench in the carpet beneath him but he nods. “Yes.”

Flicking his eyes up to meet Neil’s once more, he finally closes the distance. It’s not like their other kiss that had started off tentative and worked its way up to passionate. This one is frenzied from the start with Andrew’s hands instantly finding Neil’s hair as he drops off the end of the bed and onto his knees in front of Neil, pushing them even closer together.

It’s only been a matter of seconds but already Neil feels like he can’t breathe. Andrew is practically in his lap as he coaxes Neil’s mouth open, drawing the softest, neediest sound from the back of Neil’s throat. But Neil still keeps his hands to himself, no matter how badly he’s aching to reach out.

It takes a minute or so of Andrew nudging closer and closer before Neil finally gets the hint and lies back against the carpet with Andrew following him down immediately, mouths never breaking apart for more than a few seconds. His legs straddle Neil’s hips while his hands gravitate from Neil’s hair to slide down his arms. Once he’s caught hold of Neil’s wrists, Andrew pins them above his head, breaking the kiss with a huffed breath.

He leans his forehead heavily against Neil’s and Neil hazily opens his eyes to find Andrew’s dilated pupils boring into his.

“If we do this,” Andrew pants, voice laboured while he tries to regulate his breathing. “You need to follow my rules. You touch when I say you can touch otherwise it’s a no. Same goes for you. You ever want me to stop and I’ll stop. If there’s ever a line you don’t want me to cross, you say so.”

Neil nods because he knows how serious this is. It means a lot that Andrew is choosing to trust him even a little bit right now. He intends to protect that fragile trust with everything he has. “I understand,” he promises. “Whatever you’re comfortable with and nothing more.”

Andrew watches him for a few seconds longer before crushing their lips together once more, hands absently squeezing Neil’s wrists as he flattens their chests together.

Neil is so overwhelmed all he can really do is let himself be kissed. He lets Andrew turn his head this way and that, lets Andrew bite a path along his jaw and mouth at his neck, and he revels in every fucking second of it.

He forgets about Andrew’s hands on his wrists, forgets about where they are and who they are, he forgets about the rest of the world until there’s only three things still standing on the edge of his awareness.

His mouth. Andrew’s mouth. And the electricity running through his veins.

* * *

 

Their final day off finds Andrew and Neil locked inside all day rehearsing the cover so it’ll be ready for the following show while everyone else explores for the day. Well, _ostensibly_ they’re rehearsing and they do for a while. But Neil would be lying if he said they didn’t take copious amounts of breaks to kiss each other senseless.

It’s not exactly a hardship.

On the day of the concert they’re lounging around in one of their dressing rooms while taking a break when Neil is looking through the mentions on his Twitter feed. He doesn’t spend a lot of time on the app other than to tweet a thank you after their concerts or voice whatever random opinion comes into his head – or drag reporters - but even so he generally doesn’t look at fans’ replies.

But Wymack and the others have his interest piqued.

He’s surprised to see just how many of his notifications are related to Andrew or even how many include pictures or videos of them together. He’s always been under the impression they don’t interact much in public. And they don’t, really. Every picture always captures brief, half-second moments where their eyes lock across the stage or their arms brush when they stand next to each other during their final bow. Tiny moments that Neil himself hadn’t even really been aware of.

But probably what surprises him the most is the look on his own face. As a general rule, Neil doesn’t look in the mirror much. He sees too much of his father in himself to ever be comfortable with his appearance but even still, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen the intense expression he wears when looking at Andrew before.

He’s not sure if that’s what possesses him to do it or not but he finds himself drafting a tweet only a minute later.

Andrew, who’s been sitting in the corner of the other couch apparently listening to Kevin but actually scrolling through his phone, looks up almost immediately and finds Neil’s eyes. Neil can see the question on his face but he doesn’t wait for an answer before his attention returns to his phone and he starts typing.

Neil’s own phone pings with a notification a moment later and he can’t stop the grin that spreads across his face.

Nicky, who Neil had been certain was texting Erik, suddenly cuts through Kevin and Aaron’s conversation to incredulously ask, “Did you two just _tweet_ each other?”

Andrew ignores him completely while Neil only gives him an unassuming look in response. Kevin, however, glances down at Nicky’s phone and scoffs. “About time you two started playing along and tried to fix this mess. Especially since Andrew started it in the first place.”

With a worrying amount of casualness Andrew slips one of his knives from his armbands and dangles it over Kevin’s lap. “Say that again,” he requests, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

Kevin, either desensitised to Andrew’s antics or stupid enough to try and call his bluff, only scowls in Andrew’s direction before crossing his arms like a petulant child and remaining silent.

Andrew withdraws the knife after a moment and hides it away as if he’d never taken it out in the first place. When the room returns to relative calm and Kevin and Aaron pick up their conversation again Neil watches Andrew’s eyes flit up to meet his again once more.

If Neil didn’t know any better, he’d think Andrew is almost smirking.

* * *

 

[It’s the middle of the show](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7awq_VEdZzk) and he and Andrew are about to perform their cover.

The others disappear off stage with a quick wave at the screaming crowd to take a water break or head to the bathroom – Neil knows for a fact Nicky needs to replace the string that snapped on his bass during their last song. Within seconds the only people left on stage are himself and Andrew and Neil is surprised at how vulnerable it makes him feel.

A stagehand comes out with two stools and Andrew makes a beeline to take Neil’s mic stand off him. They share a brief look where Neil can physically hear the crowd get louder before he slips his microphone out of its holder and lets Andrew take the stand.

While Andrew sets about adjusting the mic stands for them so they can sit down and swaps his electric guitar for an acoustic Neil faces the crowd.

He still hates talking in front of people but he knows how to do it now. (Kevin’s a terrible teacher but he’s also been media trained within an inch of his life so Neil learned from the best.) “So if you guys follow me on Twitter you might have seen that we have a surprise for you tonight.”

He pauses while the screams increase and takes the moment to hand off his own guitar to the same stagehand as before and replace it with his acoustic.

“Well, the truth is,” he says, making his way over to where Andrew’s already sitting and testing out the strings on his guitar. “Andrew and I were messing around the other day, playing random songs in between rehearsals and well, we liked this one so much we wanted you guys to hear it.”

He barely refrains from rolling his eyes as he says it and Andrew’s quiet scoff from beside him doesn’t help. But he can also feel Wymack’s eyes on him from the side of the stage so he keeps his expression perfectly smooth.

He takes a second to make sure his mic is the right height before settling his guitar in his lap and nodding at Andrew. In that moment it’s easy to ignore the roaring crowd and their bandmates watching from the wings, all he sees is Andrew.

Neil counts them in quietly and then Andrew begins the opening note.

Neil is always awed by Andrew’s voice but in this atmosphere, with it echoing off the walls while the fans go ballistic, he’s mesmerised. Andrew is made for this. He might be apathetic to the majority of his life, he might never be able to appreciate what a surreal experience this is the same way Neil does but there’s no doubt. This is what he was born to do.

Neil’s fingers move on autopilot as Andrew makes his way through the first verse and it takes everything he has not to just stare at Andrew the entire time. Even still, he’s ready when they get to the chorus, voice ringing out clearly throughout the arena as he joins Andrew.

_“If you want, we could be runaways,  
Running from any sight of love…”_

If Neil is being honest, the fans aren’t the only ones affected by the sound of his and Andrew’s voices together. Hearing the way they complement each other perfectly, creating a rich blend of scratchy and smooth, it has a positively spine tingling effect on him and it takes everything he has just to keep singing.

Andrew drops off after the chorus as Neil takes over for the second verse and though he keeps his face staring forward for as long as possible, he can’t help but look Andrew’s way as he sings, “ _I can be a lone wolf with you…”_

He’s shocked to find Andrew’s eyes already on him when he does, breath stuttering for the barest second while they lock gazes before he makes himself look away.

He refuses to look at Andrew for the remainder of the song, mostly because he can’t trust his own reaction if he does, but the final, _“I don't wanna be alone…”_ that they sing together still sits heavily in his stomach even without the extra weight of Andrew’s gaze.

The rush of applause as they finish the song is almost as exhilarating as Andrew’s kisses.

* * *

 

It’s three days later when everything goes to shit.

They’re all eating breakfast together – Nicky is telling some ridiculous story about his time in Germany that Aaron appears to be seriously side-eyeing while Dan and Matt listen with rapt attention, Kevin is practically asleep in his cornflakes while Allison and Renee are talking quietly between themselves. Andrew is next to Neil, eating his breakfast in silence and Neil is wondering if the electricity he feels from proximity to Andrew has always been there or if it’s a new thing.

They’re relaxed and happy, still revelling in how well their Wisconsin shows went- but then Wymack enters the room with his iPad in hand.

The usual look of exasperation he wears has been replaced with something solemn and his jaw is clenched in a surprising show of withheld anger.

“Neil,” he says sombrely, catching the attention of the entire table as the room goes quiet.  “Can we talk in private?”

“Did the other night not go okay?” Neil asks because it’s the only thing he can think of that would make Wymack look like that.

“It’s not about that,” Wymack assures him, breaking eye contact with Neil for an instant to look over at his son. “Kevin can come too.”

At the mention of Kevin’s name Neil immediately know what this is about. He and Kevin lock eyes and Neil knows they’re both thinking the same thing.

 _Riko_.

Andrew stirs beside him and Neil forces his gaze away from the haunted look in Kevin’s eyes. But Andrew isn’t looking at him; Andrew is staring up at Wymack with an uncomfortably penetrating gaze.

Wymack looks between them with narrowed eyes until his gaze finally returns to Neil. “I’m guessing you don’t care if Andrew comes?”

When Neil shakes his head Wymack nods as if he’d expected as much and gestures for them to follow him. “Alright, come on.”

All three of them bolt out of their seats at once and move to follow him out into the hallway. Neil can feel six pairs of his eyes boring holes in his back and it makes him move that little bit closer to Andrew. Andrew notices because he always seems to notice and brushes their arms together, subtle enough that anyone else wouldn’t notice it but Neil still knows it’s deliberate.

He’s only slightly concerned about how much the touch comforts him.

Wymack leads them into an empty conference room and waits until they’re each sitting at the table before he sets his iPad down and turns it on.

“Abby called me this morning,” he says, swiping through a few tabs until he finds what he’s looking for. “I thought she was calling to tell me about the media reaction to the cover in Wisconsin. We’d been waiting until both shows were over to do a full breakdown of everything.”

Neil twists his fingers together in his lap and squeezes until the pain brings him back to the situation. He doesn’t even know what’s happened yet but already he can feel the old panic Riko always instilled in him beginning to resurface,

“Apparently Riko Moriyama did an interview with Billboard recently where he decided to talk about his long lost high school band.” Wymack’s jaw is clenched again as he turns the iPad around and pushes it across the table so the three of them can read the headline.

_“On the Record with Riko Moriyama: The Raven King spills all his secrets about The Monsters’ new heart-throb, Neil Josten.”_

Neil doesn’t read anything past the headline. He doesn’t think he can. He sits back in his chair, feeling like someone’s taken a cleaver to his chest and carved him clean open. Absently, he watches Kevin push forward to read more.

“What did he say?” Neil asks after a minute or so of painful silence, cringing at the lack of emotion in his voice. Wymack knows the details of Neil’s teenage years – Kevin had already told him most of it by the time Neil had shown up and Neil had explained the rest before he signed his first contract.

“Nothing incriminating,” Wymack swears. The unspoken _yet_ still loud in Neil’s head. “But you and Kevin both know how the Moriyamas work. This is a threat.”

Neil’s past had been buried when he joined The Monsters. Wymack had made sure of it. He’d had to do the same for some of the more sour parts of the twins’ and Nicky’s childhood so it wasn’t like he hadn’t the experience. It’d helped that Neil had changed his name, it’d made it harder for people to dig up stuff about his past and whenever they had, Wymack had always gotten wind of it first and quickly shut it down.

But they can’t shut down the Moriyamas.

Kengo and Tetsuji Moriyama are the heads of one of the most powerful record labels in the world. They’re not some gossip site looking for clickbait. Neil should’ve known coming into the public eye without Riko would be dangerous. It’s a wonder Kevin has even survived as long as he has. But now the _two of them_ are in a band without Riko- it’s too much of a slight against Riko’s reputation. They should’ve known he would retaliate.

“Okay,” Neil replies heavily, getting the distinct feeling the walls are closing in on him. He’d never been claustrophobic before Riko. “What happens now?”

The agitated look on Wymack’s face says he doesn’t know.

“He’s planted a seed,” Kevin says, voice surprisingly even. “He’s told everyone we were all in a band together, he’s shared tidbits like one would about an old friend and dropped enough hints for people to want to pry and know more. He’s planning on drawing this out.”

“Most likely,” Wymack agrees reluctantly. “We can try and get in front of it and tell everyone the truth about your past and your parents ourselves-“ he cuts off at the choked noise that bubbles out of Neil’s throat “- or we can wait,” he continues slowly. “And try to come up with an alternative before things get too messy.”

It’s over.

Neil knew it would have to end somehow. He knew he couldn’t catch a break as good as The Monsters without some form of karma knocking him on his ass. He knows what he needs to do. He needs to disappear, change his name again, drop off the map before Riko can expose his horror story of a family tree. At least that way he can be as far away as possible from the damage when the bomb finally drops.

He doesn’t realise he isn’t breathing until a rough hand clamps down on the back of his neck. His eyes fly open and a mottled breath rips out of his throat as Andrew’s face appears in front of him.

“ _Neil_ ,” he demands, and judging by the insistent tone in his voice it’s not the first time he’s said it.

“Breathe,” Andrew instructs quietly once he’s sure he’s got Neil’s attention.

It’s impossible at first. Every breath feels like a razor blade in his lungs and his vision is starting to go spotty but Andrew’s hand doesn’t relent on Neil’s neck and he refuses to let Neil break eye contact.

Eventually a ragged but real breath rushes out of him and the blurring behind his eyes begins to recede. Andrew’s hand eases on his neck until it’s just a gentle pressure and the tension in Neil’s body finally begins to uncoil.

He slumps forward, burying his face in his hands and inadvertently putting himself closer to Andrew, still crouched in front of him. Andrew only moves his hand slightly to run through the hair at the nape of Neil’s neck and whispers, “It’s okay.”

Neil looks up when he realises Andrew has spoken in German. He knows the twins know it because of Nicky; he’s not sure how Andrew knows _he_ speaks it though.

Neil switches languages obediently and offers a weak, “I don’t know that it is,” in reply.

“I haven’t let him touch Kevin in four years,” Andrew tells him firmly. “What makes you think I’d let him get near you?”

Neil knows what Andrew’s offering and it momentarily stuns him. He knows all about Andrew and Kevin’s deal from Kevin. He knows the reason Kevin agreed to signing the record deal with The Monsters is because Andrew promised to protect him from Riko. (Kevin wouldn’t tell him what was in it for Andrew but Neil isn’t worried about that right now.)

Andrew is offering him the same deal. He’s promising to protect Neil from _Riko_ – possibly the one person who can instil almost the same amount of fear in Neil as his father could.

“What am I gonna have to do to pay you back for that?” he asks because he knows that’s how Andrew operates. Deals and exclusivity and trades.

“What’ll you give me?”

“Whatever you want.” It’s the same thing Neil had said a few nights ago, though there’s nothing similar about that deal and this one. Regardless, he finds that it’s as true now as it had been then. He thinks there’s very little he _wouldn’t_ give Andrew – especially if Andrew is offering him peace of mind in return.

Andrew’s hand tightens in his hair for a second as his gaze become sharper but then he releases Neil, standing up and returning to his chair on Neil’s left. Kevin and Wymack are staring at them, not having followed along with their conversation – or maybe because they’re only just realising Andrew and Neil are closer than they’d previously assumed – and Andrew, for once, is the one to answer the unspoken question.

“It’s fine,” he says resolutely. “We’ll wait for now and give ourselves time to formulate a plan. He won’t hit back today anyway.”

Wymack nods carefully, eyes still flickering between Neil and Andrew. “I’m gonna give Abby a call and see what we can come up with. We’ll keep you updated.”

Neil nods tiredly, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand. Panic attacks always did knock it out of him.

Wymack pauses on his way to the door, putting his hand on Neil’s shoulder and making him look up. “We’ll figure it out, Neil,” he promises. “Riko won’t win.”

Neil nods again because he’s too exhausted to argue and manages to hold in his weary sigh until Wymack leaves the room.

“Do you think Jean has been punished recently?” Kevin asks in French from his right, suddenly reminding Neil of his presence. The even tone of his voice is gone, replaced by something shaky and meek.

Neil grimaces when he thinks of their old friend. Jean had chosen to stay when Neil ran, young and stupid and too caught up in the thought of being a star. He’d accepted Tetsuji’s offered record deal eagerly because of the promise of fame and people hearing his music.

Now he’s merely the drummer in Riko’s backing band, nothing more than a foothold for Riko’s solo career. Neil isn’t foolish enough to believe he’s still there by choice though. He knows enough about record contracts and enough about Tetsuji to guess that Jean’s contract is ironclad and unbreakable. He’s not leaving Riko’s side any time this decade.

Neil knows Jean was probably punished for his leaving four years ago. Just as they both had been after Kevin fled. But the thought of Jean still being punished _now_ because Kevin and Neil are in the spotlight makes bile rise in his throat.

“He can handle it,” Neil grits out in rusty French. He hasn’t spoken it – least of all to Kevin – in a long time.

Kevin’s frown says what he won’t say out loud. That Jean has no choice but to handle it if he wants to stay alive. Neil shakes his head to rid the image from his mind.

“I can’t think about that right now, Kevin,” he replies wearily, finally switching back to English since Andrew probably doesn’t appreciate being left out.

Kevin nods once before standing up from his chair and taking an uneven step towards the door. “I’m going to the liquor store.”

“It’s eleven in the morning,” Andrew says. More of an observation than a reprimand.

“Don’t care,” Kevin mutters before stumbling out of the room.

“Let him,” Neil says quietly. Honestly, he could use some whiskey right about now.

Andrew watches him go before rolling his eyes and turning back to Neil. “I mean it,” he says, voice filled with so much conviction that Neil can almost feel himself starting to believe him. “I won’t let him touch you.”

Neil reaches out a hand, smiling faintly when Andrew takes it and places it on his own shoulder. Neil fits his hand to Andrew’s neck, feeling his hot pulse thrum against his palm. He’s so fiercely alive; Neil doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone so uninterested in living fight so hard to survive. He wants to trust Andrew to keep him safe, he wants to believe he can survive this with Andrew’s help.

But Neil has always been a realist to a fault.

Swiping his thumb over Andrew’s pulse once more, he offers him a rueful smile and says, “You might not have a choice.”

* * *

 

Telling the others is just as emotionally taxing as Neil had expected it to be but he’d known there was no way he could keep it quiet with the way Wymack had come into the room earlier. The fact that Kevin is clutching a bottle of vodka like a lifeline and Neil has the distinct look of someone on the verge of throwing up hasn’t really helped their case either.

So Neil explains. The Monsters already know the basics of Neil’s teenage years and his and Kevin’s experience with Riko but The Upperclassmen are hearing Neil’s side of the story for the first time today.

Sharing his secrets with the group leaves him feeling much more unsettled than doing so with Andrew ever has but he knows they need to know. If only to brace themselves for the inevitable shitstorm that’s coming their way.

“He can’t do this,” Dan insists, furious on Neil’s behalf. “That little bastard already almost ruined Kevin’s career, he’s not about to hurt you too.”

“It’s not that simple,” Neil responds, rubbing tiredly at his temples. He can feel a stress headache coming on. “Riko knows everything. About my father’s business, about when me and my mom tried to run, about her murder-“ He cuts off at that point when bile churns uncomfortably in his stomach. Andrew’s knee presses firmly against his where they’re sitting next to each other on the couch. Neil presses his knee back in wordless thanks.

“He knows my real name,” he continues hollowly.

“ _Neil_ is your real name,” Nicky says firmly, possibly the most angry Neil has ever seen him. That it’s on Neil’s behalf is more touching and overwhelming than he can possibly say.

He tries to smile and Nicky does too but he knows they both fall flat.

“I’ve spent so long trying to leave that part of my life behind and I’m finally getting to build a future I want. Riko doesn’t like to lose and me winning is as good as a loss as far as he’s concerned.” He gulps, mind on Riko’s blades and the scars that still litter his own torso. His father hadn’t been the only one that favoured knives. “He’ll cut me down as he sees necessary.”

“Then he’ll have to go through all of us,” Matt declares with an unwavering conviction that leaves no room for argument.

“Thank you but-“

Allison interrupts him with a scoff. “That little shit thinks he knows what a smear campaign is? Just wait ‘til we’re finished with him.” The vindictive determination in her voice has Neil suddenly re-evaluating his earlier assessment that Renee is the dangerous one in their relationship.

“Is there anything we can do Neil?” Renee asks softly then, quiet concern radiating from her expression.

“Not right now,” he answers awkwardly, still not entirely used to the way his bandmates and The Upperclassmen seem to care for him. “I think I just want to be alone for a little while.”

They get the message and begin filing out of the room, each of them stopping to hug him or squeeze his shoulder. Even Aaron pauses in front of him to give him a slight nod before following Nicky. Kevin is one of the last to file out of the room with a weary, “We’ll talk later,” in slurred French.

Andrew looks like he’s about to follow but Neil stops him before he can.

“Wait,” he blurts out before hesitating. “You don’t have to go.”

“I thought you wanted to be alone?” Andrew asks. There’s nothing accusatory in his voice; it’s simply a question – nothing more, nothing less. The calm, unassuming expression on his face is enough to make Neil breathe a little easier.

“That doesn’t include you,” Neil murmurs before huffing out a humourless laugh. “Don’t suppose you know how to get onto the roof of this place?”

Andrew doesn’t answer him but he does stand up and wait for Neil to follow suit. Andrew leads them to the empty arena instead of the roof, taking a seat at the edge of the stage and letting his legs hang over the side. Neil sits next to him after a second, instantly feeling more at peace as he looks out into the vast rows of empty seats.

If nothing else, he’ll always find a home on stage.

It doesn’t take long for the exhaustion to hit him all over again. He really needs to make sure he takes a nap before tonight’s show. It’s only midday and he already feels like he could sleep for a week. He’s completely drained; his head is heavy and his face hurts and he really just wants nothing more than to curl up and go to sleep – though he’s pretty sure his nightmares won’t be letting that happen anytime soon.

“Andrew.”

Andrew gives him a sidelong glance and makes a noise somewhere between a scoff and a sigh. “You’re a mess, Josten.”

It actually almost causes Neil to smile but he’s too tired to really try. He shrugs his shoulders, “What else is new?”

Andrew makes the sighing noise again and reaches a hand up until his fingers slide into Neil’s hair. Neil doesn’t expect Andrew to do any more than that but then he’s urging Neil’s head down until it’s resting against his shoulder.

“Don’t fucking make a big deal out of it,” he mutters but his fingers don’t leave Neil’s hair; instead they start gently carding through it. More gently than Neil could’ve ever expected Andrew to be.

This time he does grin but Andrew can’t see it so he thinks it’s okay.

He doesn’t sleep but he does let his eyes close while he allows the steady rise and fall of Andrew’s shoulders to lull him until his mind is focused on nothing but the feeling of Andrew’s fingers in his hair.

* * *

 

Despite the news of that morning, the concert goes off without a hitch and Neil throws himself into his performance with even more vigour to distract himself. Nicky rouses the crowd until they’re so loud Neil knows he wouldn’t even be able to hear his bandmates without his in-ears and Kevin keeps making corny comments about how they’re “the loudest crowd so far!”

He and Andrew perform Desperado again and somehow the reaction is even more earth-shattering now that people know it’s coming. Like the two shows before, the performance sets Neil’s spine tingling and it’s the thing that finally does the trick and takes him out of his own head.

He forgets about Riko. He forgets about the Moriyamas. He forgets about his past.

Until the only things on his mind are his music, his friends and Andrew.

They hang out in Allison’s room afterwards but no one bats an eye at Neil bowing out early tonight, rightly assuming he’s still a bit shaken from this morning. But that’s not why he’s leaving. Like always, he wanders up to the roof and finds Andrew already waiting for him.

He passes his half-smoked cigarette over to Neil when he sits beside him and lights another one for himself. The cigarette has barely burned down to the filter before Neil is stubbing it out and turning to Andrew, need thrumming in his veins and making him want to vibrate out of his skin.

Andrew’s gaze catches on his after a moment and stays there.

Neil licks his lips once and asks, “Yes or no.”

Andrew contemplates his answer long enough to flick his cigarette butt away and then he’s turning fully to face Neil. “Yes.”

Neil is desperate to surge forward but he waits - just long enough for Andrew to move forward on his own - before they crash together.

Andrew tastes like smoke and his fingers are freezing on Neil’s face but Neil never wants him to let go. Gravel scrapes his knuckles when his hands curl into fists in an effort to keep them by his sides until Andrew is suddenly letting go of him to grab his wrists.

Meeting Neil’s gaze warningly, Andrew places Neil’s hands on his shoulders like he had this morning. “Just here,” he says quietly but firmly.

Neil nods his head rapidly, squeezing Andrew’s shoulders once in acknowledgement. “Okay,” he promises.

They continue to stare at each other for the length of a heartbeat before they’re both tumbling forward again, teeth clacking together and temples bumping, but neither of them are willing to stop long enough to realign themselves. They kiss clumsily until they finally find the right angle again and Neil isn’t sure which one of them is holding on tighter but he’s certain Andrew’s fingers are going to leave bruises.

He thinks idly of all the marks on his body, all the imperfections and scars and burns that make up his torso and his arms.

And then he thinks if he has to add any more to the list he’ll gladly welcome Andrew’s marks.

* * *

 

“Tell me something true,” Andrew requests.

They’re lying on Andrew’s bed, top to toe, and Neil doesn’t really know how they ended up in this position. He remembers leaving the roof, following Andrew’s blond hair like a beacon. He remembers the way Andrew pressed him up against the door as soon as it closed behind him and kissed him until Neil’s knees gave out. He remembers gravitating to the bed and Andrew putting a stop to things before it got too heated.

The positions they’re currently in however, he’s not sure how they got there.

He thinks it might be easier to talk this way though, without having to look at each other.

Neil contemplates the truths he’s already divulged to Andrew and the ones he’s still not quite ready to voice out loud. A few months ago he’d thought he hadn’t been ready to say _any_ of them out loud but something about Andrew makes him want to be honest. Besides, today kind of forced his hand anyway. He considers all the secrets he still holds under lock and key in the deepest recesses of his mind before he eventually settles on one word.

“Abram.”

When Neil doesn’t elaborate Andrew sits up, knee nudging Neil’s in a silent request to keep going.

“It’s my middle name,” Neil explains. “Now and before.” He doesn’t say what before means, Andrew already knows.

Andrew tilts his head in consideration before twisting around so he’s lying beside Neil, the right way up this time. Neil is shocked at the move but he’s not sure if it’s just because of the illusion of intimacy that Andrew’s bed offers that makes it seem like such a big deal.

“Still not ready to tell me your first name?”

“I’m surprised Kevin hasn’t already told you,” Neil replies. It’s something he’s been wondering about; especially since, from what he knows, Kevin fell in with Andrew’s lot almost instantly at Palmetto.

Andrew rolls his head to the side to look at Neil, shrugging slightly. “He didn’t talk much for the first couple of months. By the time I’d promised to protect him he was already calling you Neil.”

Neil tries not to react at hearing about Andrew and Kevin’s apparent deal even if he’s dying to probe Andrew about it and instead focuses on answering Andrew’s unspoken question. “Kevin kept calling me when he found out I didn’t take Riko’s record deal,” he murmurs, thinking back on Kevin’s incessant texts and calls. It’s nice to know Kevin at least cared but at the time Neil had been trying to leave everything behind and it didn’t exactly help. “I’d planned on ditching my phone anyway so I called him from my new number and told him I was okay, that I changed my name and that if he ever needed to contact me that was the number he should use.”

“And four years later he cashed in on that offer,” Andrew surmises.

Neil hums in agreement before they fall silent again. He takes a chance after a while and rolls onto his side, bringing him closer to Andrew but still maintaining a barrier of space.

Andrew half-shifts onto his right shoulder to look at him more clearly but doesn’t move further than that. His gaze wanders all over Neil’s face and Neil feels calm enough to let him look. He’s not sure when Andrew got inside his walls but Neil doesn’t see much sense in shoving him out now.

“Abram,” Andrew murmurs, like he’s testing out the word in his mouth. “It suits you,” he decides eventually.

“I wanted to keep it,” Neil admits. “It made me feel more real.”

“You don’t feel real,” Andrew whispers. It’s such a raw moment of honesty Neil is sure it has to be a mistake.

Still. “You’re the only thing that’s ever felt real,” Neil tells him.

Andrew doesn’t reply but his throat bobs as his hand reaches out to snag in Neil’s shirt sleeve. “Yes or no?”

“Kiss me.”

There’s only a few inches of space between them but it feels like eons pass in the time it takes for the distance to close. The tips of their noses brush and Andrew’s upper lip catches on Neil’s bottom lip in an almost-kiss that leaves them both wanting more. They move in again and this time the kiss lands on centre. Andrew’s hand curls around his jaw and Neil is so full up of anticipation he barely manages to hold back when their mouths slot together.

He feels all the air in his lungs rush out through his nose and he’s not sure if that’s what’s causing the light-headedness or if it’s just _Andrew_ but either way Neil doesn’t care enough to stop. Their legs tangle and overlap and it’s only one tiny point of contact but Neil still feels goosebumps erupt all over his skin simply at the realisation that Andrew is letting him in just a little bit more.

Andrew is made up of jagged edges, all poised for Neil to catch himself on. Everything about him is sharp and deadly.

Everything except his lips.

Andrew’s lips are soft and plush when they brush against Neil’s. His bottom lip gives when Neil sinks his teeth in – he also shudders so hard Neil feels it rattle his own bones – and they only become softer the longer they kiss.

Andrew isn’t soft. And Neil doesn’t expect or want him to be. But there is a softness in him that starts with his lips and disappears somewhere deep inside of him, somewhere Neil hasn’t been granted access to yet. And whether it’s a good idea or not, Neil wants to explore that softness. He wants to find the place where it hides between Andrew’s bones, he wants to know how deep it runs, he wants to kiss and coax until he knows that softness as well as he does the jagged edges.

For now, he contents himself with Andrew’s lips and doesn’t think about how this is beginning to feel like a lot more than fleeting attraction.

* * *

 

Riko is quiet for the following week but Neil knows better than to get complacent.

Wymack and Abby are working relentlessly to come up with a solution to curb the inevitable but Neil knows there’s no point. There’s nothing they can do. His past is going to come out and either one of his father’s former business associates will come for him or Riko will. Either way, Neil isn’t getting out of this unscathed.

For right now, at least, he decides not to worry about it. If he only has a few months left of this life then he wants to appreciate every second he can.

They only have two more nights of shows before they have a week off – which Allison has commandeered as group vacation time – so Neil puts his all into that until he can take a much needed break.

They’re currently on the bus to Ohio. They’ve graciously given up the bedroom to Nicky so he can skype Erik, his rambunctious laughter trickling out through the door ever few minutes. Kevin and Aaron are playing a card game in the booth while Neil and Andrew sit on opposite ends of the couch. Andrew appears to have moved onto a new novel and remains engrossed in his book while Neil writes, something he usually doesn’t like doing with an audience but no one is paying attention to him.

His mind is wandering a little though and he can’t really decide what he wants to write about. He doesn’t have any motivation to work on any of his half-finished songs but he doesn’t have any particularly new ideas either. He stares absentmindedly out the window for a few minutes but nothing on the side of the highway is exceptionally attention-grabbing. He lets his gaze travel around the inside of the bus then for something – _anything_ – to catch his eye. He just needs a word or an object or a colour, something that lights a spark in him.

He takes in the sleek interior of the bus, the blind on the window half-pulled down to keep out the glare of the sun, the mess that Nicky still hasn’t cleaned up on the kitchenette counter, the sprawl of discarded cards on the table between Aaron and Kevin until, finally, his gaze falls on Andrew.

He’s never really written songs about other people, least of all _love songs_ – even though he’s not sure that’s what it could be called if he _did_ write a song about Andrew.

He thinks he wants to try, though. He wants to try and figure out a way to explain what he and Andrew are to each other and how Andrew makes him feel and how different it is to anything else he’s ever experienced before. He’s always used songwriting as a way to express the things he hasn’t been able to say in any other way. He thinks it’s only appropriate to use it now.

He takes a moment to catalogue Andrew’s face, smooth and relaxed as he reads his book. His eyes are darting from left to right as his gaze travels down the page and his fingers are poised at the edge of the page, getting ready to turn it. His hair looks soft and little messed up because of the cushion behind his head and the too-big hoodie he’s wearing drowns him, making him look even smaller than normal.

Andrew always appears dangerous and Neil knows he is but right now he can’t help but see Andrew as something else – something gentler, more peaceful.

Something a little quiet. Like Neil.

They really are similar in a lot of ways, more than Neil had initially believed. Their life experience is different but it’s still moulded them the same way and given them similar demons to contend with. Neil thinks maybe that’s why they gravitated to each other in the first place. For that silent, implicit _you understand_.

Their similarities are a comfort. But their differences are what keep them both coming back for more.

Andrew seems to have tolerated his examination for as long as he’s willing to then because he looks up with a long-suffering sigh and mouths, “ _Staring_ ,” at Neil.

Neil ducks his head to hide his smile, fingers playing with the edge of his open notebook.

Yeah, he thinks he knows what he wants to write about.

* * *

 

He catches up with Nicky as they unload the bus, bypassing Kevin and the twins and ignoring Andrew’s raised eyebrows as he hurries past them.

“Nicky!” he calls, finally managing to fall into step with him when Nicky falters at the sound of his name.

“And what can I do for you, angelface?” Nicky asks grandly, snickering when Neil rolls his eyes at him.

“Remember how you were saying we should talk to Wymack about me adding some of my own songs to the setlist?”

Nicky’s eyes light up as he nudges Neil’s side excitedly. “Did you pick a song?!”

Neil shakes his head, “No- well, kind of? I wrote a verse earlier and I was playing around with the melody and I realised it goes pretty well with Wild.”

Nicky pauses, expression going blank with surprise.

Taking his silence for displeasure, Neil rushes to explain. “I know that’s a song you wrote for Erik and it’s yours and it’s personal and everything-“

“Let me see the verse,” Nicky interrupts, eyeing the journal Neil still has clutches in his hands.

He doesn’t mean to, but Neil looks over his shoulder to check if Andrew is within hearing distance. He’s a few feet behind them but his gaze is boring into Neil’s as soon as he turns around. He’s not subtle enough for Nicky to miss it either since, unfortunately, Nicky isn’t actually oblivious.

For once he chooses to be discrete though.

“Inside?” Nicky suggests with the arch of an eyebrow.

Neil nods gratefully and lets Nicky guide him into the venue. There’s someone from the arena waiting for them who happily shows them to the corridor their dressing rooms are on and Nicky wastes no time in dragging Neil into his before the others can catch up.

“Alright,” Nicky says, dropping down onto the couch that’s already set up in one corner of the room. “Show me.”

Neil looks nervously down at his notebook. He hasn’t shown anyone his lyrics since he was in high school – with the exception of Andrew reading them when he was asleep – but he wants to do this. He knows this verse is worth it. The moment when he’d been trying to figure out the melody and it had all clicked had made him feel practically euphoric. This’ll work, he knows it.

Sucking in a deep breath, he hands his notebook over to Nicky and watches him open the page that’s bookmarked. “I was thinking it’d work well as a second verse,” he mutters weakly, worrying his lip between his teeth as he waits for Nicky’s reaction.

Nicky doesn’t do anything for a moment except hum the lyrics under his breath but then he stops and suddenly he’s beaming up at Neil with a hundred watt smile. “Neil, this is really good.”

Neil blows out the breath in relief and lets his shoulders drop. “Thanks, I-“

“Like, _really good_ , holy shit,” Nicky continues obliviously but Neil decides to just let him keep going. “It could totally work and it could add such a cool new layer to the song! Come on, we need to try it out!”

“You really don’t mind?” Neil asks in shock. He honestly hadn’t expected Nicky to be on board; he’d mostly just asked for the hell of it. Too caught up in the idea of performing the lyrics because he’d still been in his writing mindset.

Nicky stares at him incredulously before his smile softens. “No, I don’t mind,” he promises. “Besides, it reminds me of me and Erik a little anyway. Like when I first met him, he helped me leave my demons behind too, y’know?”

Neil swallows hard at the inadvertent comparison of his Andrew’s… _whatever_ to Nicky and Erik’s relationship. Nicky has spoken at length about what Erik did for him and how he helped him come to terms with his sexuality and he’s written about three dozen love songs about him. They’re possibly the two most committed and in love people Neil knows with perhaps only Matt and Dan acting as their real rivals.

Neil doesn’t know what he and Andrew are but whatever it is, he doesn’t think they’re that.

“Neil,” Nicky says after a moment, breaking Neil out of his reverie. “Can I ask a question?”

When Neil nods Nicky offers him a measured smile.

“Is this about Andrew?”

Panic makes Neil immediately try to stutter out a denial. “What- I don’t-“

“I’m not blind,” Nicky laughs, cutting him off. “I see the way you two sneak off together. Or well- I do now that Allison’s pointed it out.”

They never had a conversation about telling other people but Neil is pretty certain Nicky – well-meaning though he is, but also the resident gossip – would be at the bottom of the list of people Andrew wants to tell.

Neil takes a deep breath and schools his expression. “It’s nothing,” he says matter-of-factly.

Nicky smirks like he doesn’t believe him but holds his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. Keep it a secret for now, see if I care. Let’s try the song out and we can talk to Wymack then. If we practice enough we could even debut it tonight.”

Neil feels his stomach swoop at the thought of performing the lyrics – _his_ lyrics – tonight when he only wrote them mere hours ago. But he’s also sure they’re the right ones. He’s sure that even if he and Andrew don’t always make sense, these lyrics do, and it’s the closest he’s going to come to explaining it for now.

He and Nicky run through the song a couple of time, with Nicky dimpling encouragingly at him every time Neil sings the new verse until they decide to go find Wymack and pitch it to him – though he probably won’t protest; he pretty much lets them do whatever they want within reason.

“Nicky, one more thing,” Neil says as they’re leaving the dressing room. He checks the hallway to make sure the other doors are closed and there’s no blond hair in sight before continuing. “Don’t tell the others?” he requests.

“But the arrangement-“

“Is the exact same,” Neil points out. “The only thing changing is the second verse and that’s the part I sing anyway.”

Nicky looks sceptical but eventually he nods in reluctance. “I still think we should give them a head’s up just so they’re not thrown off during the performance,” he says. “But we don’t have to tell them what the lyric change is yet if you don’t want to.”

Neil nods. He can do that. What he can’t do is let Andrew see the lyrics beforehand. He’s not sure how he’ll react but even if he hates it, Neil wants the chance to sing it just once.

He’ll happily go back to the original lyrics tomorrow but just for tonight, he wants to throw everything into this performance and sing lyrics that he understands and that he _means_.

He’s just hoping the risk is worth it.

* * *

 

[They’re three quarters](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bdKq-TxLz_0) of the way into the concert and Wild is up next. Neil has been dodging Andrew’s scrutinising stare all afternoon while trying to rehearse in secret in his own dressing room – which is proving difficult enough when he hardly ever gets a minute alone all day. Andrew knows something is up but he hadn’t reacted when Nicky informed them all that Neil had changed some of the lyrics. Kevin and Aaron had asked to see the new arrangement but given up pretty easily when Neil had said he wanted to wait for the show. (Well, Kevin ranted for fifteen minutes first about Neil potentially throwing them all off because they won’t be prepared but still.)

Andrew had merely given him a bored look when Neil turned to him but Neil could tell he was curious.

Well, he doesn’t have to wait much longer now.

“So this song is pretty special to me,” Nicky is telling the crowd, a bashful smile on his face as the screams increase. They know what’s coming. “I wrote it about my boyfriend after I’d first moved back to the states because I was missing him like crazy.”

Nicky huffs a self-deprecating laugh and even Aaron smiles a little looking at him. “Anyway, we decided to change the song up a little tonight – or well, Neil did.” Nicky pauses to grin in his direction as the audience roars again.

“You’ll see what I mean in a second!” Nicky promises, slipping his mic back into its holder and picking up his bass again. “This is Wild.”

Nicky starts the song off, wearing the usual giddy grin he does whenever they perform Wild. (It’s definitely his Erik smile.) Neil focuses on playing for the first half of the song; he can’t think about the second verse yet or he’ll mess up. He’s aware of Andrew watching him out of the corner of his eye as the first chorus comes to a close but Neil can’t look at him.

Not yet, anyway.

The chorus ends and Neil steps closer towards his mic. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and begins to sing.

“ _We’re alike, you and I,  
Two blue hearts locked in our wrong minds…”_

He doesn’t plan on looking in Andrew’s direction. Somehow it happens anyway.

He catches Andrew’s eye, takes in the stony yet disbelieving expression he’s wearing and can’t help the grin that spreads across his face as he continues, _“Can you hold me? Can you make me leave my demons & my broken pieces behind?”_

Andrew echoes him during the pre-chorus and Neil tries in vain to reign in his smile. It doesn’t really work. He feels a rush of excitement blaze through him as Andrew lifts an eyebrow in silent acknowledgment. They move into the chorus with Nicky joining them again. He manages to tear his gaze away from Andrew long enough to notice Nicky’s beaming smile is back. He might actually be enjoying this more than Neil is.

Andrew takes over at the bridge and goosebumps erupt all over Neil’s skin when he feels Andrew’s weighty gaze on him as he sings. No matter what Andrew’s expression says, he’s more affected by this then he’s letting on. He has to be.

For the repeat of the bridge, Neil joins in on the harmony and within seconds he finds himself locked in another staredown.

Neil has never understood the lyrics, “ _But I can’t turn away_ ,” more than he does right now. In his head he knows that they’re not even really looking at each other. They’re both still facing the crowd, both still stood at their mics, but if you asked Neil what else is happening in the arena right now he wouldn’t have a single answer for you beyond _Andrew._

Andrew, breaking the spell somewhat, rolls his eyes and Neil feels his mouth curve up in an involuntary grin as they sing their final, “ _You’re driving me wild_ …”

There’s a single second after the song ends where Neil is still caught up in his own bubble, still looking at Andrew, still waiting for his reaction, that he almost forgets about _everyone else’s_ reaction.

But then the crowd is erupting into ear-splitting screams and Neil is suddenly shocked back into reality. He stares, dumbfounded, out at the audience, too far away and too dazed to make out any one person but he has the sudden realisation that these screams are for him.

For his _lyrics._

It’s enough to momentarily distract him from Andrew and he stops to let it all sink in. He sang words that _he wrote_ and people liked it. People are cheering for him, Nicky is gesturing wildly like a proud mother, Kevin is nodding in approval, Aaron…still doesn’t really give a shit but he doesn’t look like he hates Neil which is always an improvement.

Andrew, as always, is completely indecipherable but Neil understands one thing when taking in the look in his eye. _This isn’t over_.

Neil’s not sure if he should be scared or excited.

* * *

 

Andrew ignores him backstage after the show. He ignores him in the car ride to the hotel. He ignores him until Neil is sure he must be furious but just as Neil is about to follow everyone else into Renee and Allison’s room for a movie he’s grabbing Neil’s arm and pulling him away.

Everyone is too caught up in yelling movie suggestions over each other to initially notice them leaving which Neil is somewhat grateful for. Andrew is unlocking his own suite door so quickly Neil doesn’t get the chance to see if anyone comes looking for them. Andrew pushes him through the threshold without a word and Neil is about to start apologising for the song but then he’s being slammed up against the door, effectively shutting it closed, and Andrew is pressing into his space, leaning in so close Neil can feel his breath on his face.

He waits, suspended in time, for Andrew to do something until, finally, Andrew grits out three simple words.

“Yes or no?”

Neil barely has the yes out of his mouth before Andrew is reeling him in and crushing their lips together. It’s biting and consuming from the start; Andrew’s fingers are clenched tightly in the front of Neil’s shirt, yanking him closer as if there’s still any space left between them and Neil is almost alarmed at how quickly his previous nerves dissolve into a burning want.

It’s hardly been twenty seconds but Neil can already feel himself using the door behind him for support. If Andrew weren’t pressed so tightly against him he’d definitely be sliding to the ground right now. He lets out a shaky sigh as Andrew bites down on his lip, seemingly intent on pulling away, but he doesn’t let Neil’s lip slip from between his teeth so Neil moves with him, chasing his mouth for another kiss.

Andrew finally detaches their lips then, breathing harsh as Neil’s mouth gravitates to his neck. One thing Neil has discovered in the past couple weeks is that Andrew Minyard has a neck fetish. The other thing he’s learned is that Andrew will deny it until he’s blue in the face but the shivers it always elicits say otherwise.

“You can put your hands in my hair,” Andrew breathes out on a sharp exhale, making Neil pause.

He stops kissing Andrew’s neck, leaning back until his head is resting against the door and slowly raises his hands. He sets them on Andrew’s shoulders first, watching Andrew’s expression carefully the entire time as he gently slides them up over Andrew’s neck before finally threading his fingers through Andrew’s hair.

Andrew releases what Neil is guessing is an involuntary sigh as soon as Neil’s hands are secure. And all too quickly, the switch is flipped again and they’re falling back into each other for more. Having his hands in Andrew’s hair adds a whole new level to kissing him. He can use it to guide Andrew’s face, to pull him closer, to show him when he likes something.

Neil feels dizzy with exhilaration, lips tingling and on their way to numb as Andrew presses closer, kisses him deeper. He can feel himself getting hard and he’s trying to prepare himself for the inevitable moment where Andrew pulls away. Because no matter how far they’ve explored the past couple of weeks they haven’t really progressed past kissing and he doesn’t think they will for a while.

But then Andrew’s hands are dropping from his shirt and he’s mumbling, “Hold on,” into Neil’s mouth and circling his hands around Neil’s thighs to hoist him up into the air. Neil’s legs instinctively wrap around Andrew’s waist and his hands tighten in Andrew’s hair as he feels every bump and crevice of the door behind him dig into his back.

The kiss is a fight for control, he realises; whatever Andrew felt about Neil’s lyric change tonight, it gave Neil the upper hand. This is Andrew very firmly and swiftly pulling the rug from under Neil and snatching it back.

“If I’d known this is how you were gonna react to hearing my lyrics I would’ve thrown my journal at you weeks ago,” he laughs, head lolling back against the door when Andrew’s mouth migrates to biting a path along his jaw.

Andrew teeth sink in harder in retaliation before he pauses, huffing a breath against Neil’s neck. “I fucking hate you.”

“Only ninety percent of the time,” Neil replies airily, smug grin transforming into a glare when Andrew presses in tighter against him and causes Neil to bang his head on the door.

“You’re going on a hundred now,” Andrew warns, hands squeezing where they’re still supporting Neil’s thighs and making him release a noise that’s somewhere between a groan and a whine. “Now shut the fuck up or I’m going to leave you to sit with your hard-on for the rest of the night.”

Neil jumps visibly at the words and Andrew pauses again, leaning back to look at Neil’s face. “Still yes?”

“Yes,” Neil nods, swallowing hard and exhaling a ragged breath as one of Andrew’s hands drifts from his legs to fumble with the button on his jeans.

It takes a bit of manoeuvring – especially because Andrew refuses to let Neil drop his legs for easier access – but eventually Andrew gets a hand inside his underwear and around him and Neil feels his brain short-circuit before shutting down completely. Andrew begins pumping his hand relentlessly, adding just the right amount of pressure to make Neil feel like he’s falling apart.

He bites kisses into and around Neil’s mouth and Neil is so far gone, is so close to the edge, he can do nothing but tug on Andrew’s hair and allow Andrew to swallow down every noise that slips out of his mouth.

It doesn’t take long for him to find his release, too worked up from having Andrew so close and every single kiss and touch that’s transpired in the last few minutes. All it takes in the end is Andrew’s hand squeezing around his cock and Andrew’s teeth sinking into the hinge of his jaw to make him tip over the edge.

He collapses back against the door, legs finally giving up and slipping from Andrew’s waist. The one remaining arm Andrew had kept around his left leg falls away once Neil is sure he can stay standing and Neil briefly closes his eyes while he tries to get his breath back.

He opens them again only seconds later when he realises Andrew is still standing frozen in front of him. Andrew is stock still where he stands, still in Neil’s space but very much not touching him. At a glance Neil can tell that he’s hard but the look in his eyes says the last thing he wants is Neil touching him right now.

“Andrew,” Neil says carefully, gauging his expression for a reaction that doesn’t come.

“Do you want me to go?” he asks next because, while he doesn’t want to leave Andrew alone, he knows he might need to right now. This is probably the first time Andrew has done anything even remotely sexual since Drake happened. Neil wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t been as ready as he thought or if he regretted it.

Andrew’s gaze finally slides to his and he nods his head. Neil relents immediately, tucking himself back into his briefs and zipping up his jeans again. It’s uncomfortable but he can deal with it in his own room. Giving Andrew space right now is more important than anything.

Andrew moves back to let him open the door but just as Neil is about to step through it Andrew is grabbing his shirt to pull him back.

“I don’t regret it,” he says seriously, eyes clear as they stare into Neil’s. “But I can’t-“

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” Neil says because he might not know everything about Andrew yet but he does know he wouldn’t have been able to finish that sentence.

Andrew nods shortly, hand flexing in his grip on Neil’s shirt but not letting go.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Neil murmurs.

Andrew nods again before releasing him and shuffling back a few steps to let Neil through the door. With one last look at each other, the door closes between them.

* * *

 

It’s a couple of hours later when Neil is lying on his bed, idly playing his guitar – long since having showered and changed into sweats and a t-shirt to sleep in – and there’s a knock on the door.

Assuming it’s Nicky or Matt trying to drag him over to movie night, Neil sighs, setting his guitar aside and hauling himself out of bed. He ambles to the door, not bothering to check the peephole before swinging it open.

The last thing he expects is to find Andrew standing there, dressed in his own makeshift pyjamas of sweats and a t-shirt but with his armbands still firmly in place.

He doesn’t say anything as he pushes past Neil to get into the room. Neil dumbly stares at the space Andrew just vacated before prompting himself to close the door. When he turns around Andrew is already sitting cross-legged on his bed, seemingly waiting for him.

As Neil pads across the room and climbs onto his earlier space Andrew absently runs his fingers over the strings of Neil’s discarded guitar.

“Are you here to talk or is it gonna be a not-talking night?” Neil asks when the silence becomes too much for him. He wants to be whatever Andrew needs him to be right now but he needs to know what that is first.

Andrew finally stops trailing his hand over the strings and regards Neil with an impassive look. “I want to take a turn.”

“Last time I checked, I gave you a truth on credit.”

Andrew makes a sound that could almost be considered a laugh. Or Andrew’s version of a laugh anyway. “That you did, Abram.”

“I thought you believed in fair trade?” Neil reminds him.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Andrew says after a while, eyes straying to the guitar again as he thinks over what next he plans to say. “I’ll talk. But I need something from you first.”

Neil nods, gesturing for him to continue.

“Take off your shirt.”

The words stun Neil; it’s probably the last thing he’d expected to come out of Andrew’s mouth but he still feels his stomach churn uncomfortably at the thought. He can’t stand the thought of his scars being on display and no matter how much they’ve pushed each other the last couple of weeks, Andrew’s hands have never wandered under the hem of his shirt.

“Why?” he manages, voice sounding choked to his own ears.

Andrew picks at the comforter as he answers. “I’ll talk to you so you understand but I’m not doing it for free. Like you said-“

“Fair trade,” Neil finishes his sentence for him. In other words, if Andrew is about to be vulnerable then Neil has to be too.

“Save your truth on credit for another day,” Andrew suggests.

“Okay.” Neil doesn’t know which part he’s agreeing to but reaches for the back of his t-shirt all the same. After pushing down whatever trepidation he feels, he pulls it over his head, bracing himself for Andrew’s reaction.

Andrew goes impossibly still once Neil drops his t-shirt on the carpet, eyes zeroing in on the bullet wound on Neil’s chest.

“Lie down,” he requests quietly and Neil complies, mostly because he won’t have to look directly at Andrew this way.

Andrew moves the guitar, setting it on the floor at the end of the bed before shuffling until he’s sitting, still cross-legged, at Neil’s side.

He reaches a hand out, holding it taut over Neil’s shoulder that’s mottled with a hot iron scar. “Yes or no?”

“Yeah,” Neil sighs, closing his eyes and trying not to jump when Andrew’s cool fingers touch his shoulder.

His eyes drift open again when Andrew begins speaking.

“I don’t regret what happened earlier,” is the first thing he says – repeating his assurance from before. “I didn’t go too quickly or start something I wasn’t comfortable doing.”

He pauses, tracing the accidental pattern the burn mark created on Neil’s shoulder. His eyes flit to Neil’s once before flicking away again. “But that doesn’t mean the thought of you reciprocating – or even being in the room when I get off – is something I’m comfortable with.”

“I understand,” Neil replies, watching Andrew’s face as his hand drifts over the puckered scar left from a stray bullet after a showdown with his father’s men.

Andrew, quite conscientiously, doesn’t ask him about it. “When I tell you yes, I mean it. That doesn’t mean I won’t change my mind sometimes but when I give you a yes, you need to trust it.”

“I can do that,” Neil murmurs, sucking in a breath when Andrew’s fingers follow the lines of knife marks left by Riko and his father – _and Lola_ , his brain reminds him.

Sensing the end of the conversation, Neil lifts a hand, slowly enough that Andrew will see it coming, and gently taps Andrew’s arm to get his attention. “Can I ask for that truth now?”

Andrew appraises him for a moment before nodding.

“What did you really think of the song?”

It’s clearly not what Andrew expects but he recovers quickly, scoffing and rolling his eyes as he shift onto his stomach beside Neil. “I think you have a death wish.”

Neil grins, lifting himself up on his elbow to breach the distance between them. “Maybe,” he allows. “Yes or no?”

Andrew shoots him an unimpressed look but nods, fingers splaying across Neil’s stomach and briefly digging in. “Yes.”

They kiss. And it’s enough.

* * *

* * *

 

Two days later Neil finds himself at the airport with the rest of his bandmates and The Upperclassmen waiting for a flight to Colorado. Allison had organised renting a house up in the mountains for them to destress during their week off – though from the pictures Neil’s seen it looks more like a mansion. Wymack had sent them off with a warning of, “Don’t do anything stupid when there’s cameras around!” and promised to meet them in New York the following Sunday.

Everyone is buzzing with excitement - even Aaron is a bit more upbeat then usual since Katelyn is flying out from South Carolina to meet them there – and Neil can’t help but let their enthusiastic energy rub off on him a little. With Riko still looming in the shadows this is just what Neil needs to take his mind off everything.

(He’s kind of excited to spend a few days away from the rest of the world with Andrew too but he hasn’t said that part out loud yet.)

Andrew is quiet at the airport, attention straying every few seconds to the planes landing and taking off outside the window no matter who he’s talking to – or not-talking to. Neil recalls Andrew’s confession from last month about being afraid of heights and suddenly his lack of attention span makes sense.

They’re sitting next to each other on the flight and Neil is secretly grateful Allison ensured they were flying first class. It means they’re only two to a row so no one else can really see what they’re doing. Andrew is rigid in his chair, his hands the only part of his body that’s moving as he obsessively clicks the pen he brought on board with him.

Neil watches him for a few minutes as the plane manoeuvres its way onto the runway but when the safety demonstration ends and the pilot calls out to the cabin crew over the intercom to, “prepare for take-off,” Neil can’t do nothing anymore. Andrew goes impossibly still as the plane begins its ascent and Neil doesn’t think before he’s plucking the pen out of Andrew’s fist and replacing it with his hand.

Andrew’s head whips toward him, fingers tightening around Neil’s reflexively.

“Just don’t break my playing hand,” Neil tells him in hushed German.

They’re sitting in the last row of the Upperclassmen-Monster party so he knows the others likely can’t hear them but he doesn’t want to take the risk anyway.

Andrew looks like he wants to bite out some retort but then the plane jolts a little and he’s crushing Neil’s hand in his and closing his eyes.

“Hate you,” he grits out, fingers still clenched tightly around Neil’s. Neil is expecting the circulation in his hand to be cut off any moment now.

“I know,” Neil replies. “Only two hours and forty-five minutes to go.”

Andrew cracks one eye open to glower at him before closing it again. When they plateau his grip finally relaxes somewhat and Neil’s fingers stop throbbing but he doesn’t let go.

Neil considers the pen he’s still holding since he stole it from Andrew and then eyes Andrew’s hand. After a moment’s deliberation he squeezes Andrew’s fingers to get his attention.

Andrew opens both eyes this time and looks incredibly close to homicide as he regards Neil.

“Can I draw on you?” Neil asks, holding up the pen to demonstrate his intention.

Andrew stares at him for too long before huffing and letting his grip go slack in Neil’s hand. “Whatever.”

Guessing that that’s as close to permission as Neil is going to get, he drags Andrew’s hand into his lap. He splays Andrew’s fingers out, turning his hand one way and then the other so it’s palm up. Neil twirls the pen in his hand for a moment as he thinks about what he wants to draw before getting to work. He draws a tiny fox paw first like the ones on the sides of their tour buses before moving onto something else. He draws a pipe along the side of Andrew’s hand from the base of his pinky finger to the top of his wrist and writes “dream” inside it. He writes lyrics too, all over the back of Andrew’s hand, ones that already exist and ones that he makes up as he goes along.

_“We could be runaways.”_

_“Would you lie for me?”_

_“Two hands digging in each other’s wounds.”_

_“Would it really kill you if we kissed?”_

_“You’re driving me wild.”_

_“I’ll take you for a drive.”_

_“Maybe you were the ocean when I was just a stone.”_

_“Two punk kids up against the world.”_

_“I wanna hold hands with you.”_

At some point he feels Andrew shift and looks up to find Andrew staring down at his hand with a calm expression. The earlier tension he’d been carrying in his posture isn’t there and his brow is smoothed out. He lets his gaze wander to Neil when he must feel Neil’s stare and they lock eyes for a moment before Andrew silently offers up his other hand.

Neil smiles at him and lets go while Andrew shifts onto his side, shoulder pressed into the back of his seat so he can face Neil and give him easier access to his right hand.

It puts Andrew’s back to the aisle and Neil can tell he probably feels a little bit uncomfortable doing so but his expression doesn’t change. Neil silently promises to watch his back for him as he takes Andrew’s other hand and begins to work.

He runs out of space before long, finally finishing his handiwork with a simple, “Yes or no?” scrawled across the top of Andrew’s wrist, right before the hem of his armband – currently knife-less and probably contributing to half of Andrew’s latent panic.

Andrew stares down at his covered hands, at Neil’s hand still holding his pen loosely, and picks the pen out of Neil’s grasp. Unevenly, because Andrew is right handed, he draws a line through the “no” before pulling his hand out of Neil’s to grab onto the front of his t-shirt and reel him in.

It’s a chaste kiss. Nothing more than a quick, hard press of their lips together but Neil hears the thank you Andrew is unable to say out loud.

Andrew releases him seconds later and half-heartedly cranes his neck to make sure no one is looking their way before returning his gaze to Neil.

He simply says, “101%,” before slipping his hand into Neil’s again and closing his eyes once more.

Neil tries to bite the inside of his cheek to stop his smile from spreading across his face.

It doesn’t really work.

* * *

 

Katelyn and Erik are waiting for them when they arrive in Colorado and Neil watches bemusedly as Aaron’s almost-permanent surly expression drops off his face the minute he sweeps his girlfriend into his arms. Nicky, who Neil had been expecting to be overdramatic in his reaction to reuniting with his long-distance boyfriend after not seeing him for over three months, simply drops his bags and goes careening into Erik’s arms when he spots him. Neil looks away once they start kissing, giving them their brief moment of privacy, but their mumbled “I love you”s still carry over to where he’s standing with Andrew and Kevin.

Thea’s flight isn’t supposed to be arriving for another thirty minutes so Kevin waves the rest of them off and tells them they’ll get a taxi to the house. (Neil knows it’s really just because Kevin wants to be reunited with his girlfriend without the audience.)

The minibus they get to the house is a loud affair with everyone talking over each other in excited tones and Nicky and Erik rambling in German in the backseat. Neil gives up on trying to take part in any of the conversations after a few minutes and slumps back in his seat. Andrew is next to him, staring out at the passing scenery with vague interest, but other than the way his knee is pressed against Neil’s he doesn’t acknowledge him.

Neil decides to close his eyes for the rest of the car ride, feeling and comfortable and safe surrounded by his family – despite the noise level.

They arrive at their house a little after midday and Neil discovers his earlier assessment of the place looking more like a mansion is pretty accurate.

Allison unlocks the door and steps through the threshold with a triumphant smile while the rest of them pile inside. She spends a minute surveying the foyer before spinning around to face them once she hears the door close and unleashing her gleaming smile on them.

“Alright, there’s six bedrooms,” she informs them, ticking them off on her fingers. “So two to a room. We’ll be coupling up obviously. Renee and I dibs the biggest room since I organised everything, _obviously_. The rest of you can fight it out; though Andrew and Neil, I’m pretty sure one of the bedrooms has a window that opens out onto the lower roof where the kitchen extends if you wanna snag that one.”

Neil blinks at her in surprise – he’s even more shocked when no one else bats an eyelid at her comment. “Why would Andrew and I be sharing a room?”

“You’re the odd two out since everyone else will be sharing with their partners,” Renee answers tactfully which is immediately undermined by Allison’s derisive snort.

“Also you’re boning,” she says blandly, inspecting her nails.

Neil opens his mouth to protest but Matt cuts him off.

“Dude, don’t even bother arguing,” he advises Neil with a laugh. “We settled the pot last week.”

“You’re really not as subtle as you think you are,” Dan adds with an unapologetic grin.

Neil shares a look with Andrew who only shrugs at Neil’s disbelieving expression. Neil sighs in defeat and looks back to Allison. “Which room did you say it was?”

Allison’s grin turns devilish and Neil just about supresses his wince. “Second door on the right. First floor.”

“Great,” Neil answers weakly and tromps off towards the stairs with his bag slung over his shoulder.

Everyone else thankfully begins exploring as soon as he moves so he doesn’t have to deal with eight pairs of eyes watching him make his one-man ascent up the stairs. It’s not until he reaches the landing that he realises Andrew is following. He opens the door Allison had directed him to and sure enough one of the windows opens just above the kitchen roof. It’s the corner room though so they also have a balcony on the adjacent wall that they can use if they feel like it.

Neil takes in the room as he sets his bag at the foot of the bed. The walls are a soft cream colour and the bed is one of the biggest Neil’s ever seen – he’s pretty confident they could comfortably fit another person in there with them if need’s be. It’s arranged with a mound of pillows in various patterns that somehow still seem to match without sticking to one specific design. There’s a mahogany wardrobe to store their clothes in and a matching vanity sitting beside it. Beside that is a door that Neil assumes leads to an en suite.

Speaking as someone who’s spent the majority of the past two months living in hotels across the country, this is easily the most lavish room he’s ever stayed in.

Andrew is sitting at the end of the bed with his bag at his feet when Neil finishes his little examination of the room and slants Neil a bored look after he finally stops moving.

Neil hesitates then, remembering that Andrew never actually _agreed_ to share a room with him. Despite all their late night trips to one another’s hotel rooms they haven’t ever spent the night together. Taking a seat next to Andrew, Neil stares down at his hands in lieu of looking at him.

“I can sleep in the den if you want,” he offers because he feels like he has to remind Andrew that that’s an option. He doesn’t care what his bandmates or any of The Upperclassmen say, he won’t let Andrew feel pressured into sharing a room with him if he doesn’t want to.

Andrew huffs a longsuffering sigh after a beat of silence and leans back on his hands. “If I wanted you to sleep in the den I’d say so.”

“I know,” Neil murmurs. “I guess I just wanted to remind you that you _could_ say so. If you wanted.”

Andrew sits forward again, catching Neil’s chin between his forefinger and his thumb and forcing Neil to meet his gaze. “I know,” he says. “I don’t want you to.”

“Oh.” Neil feels his face go slack with surprise as he stares at Andrew. “Okay,” he manages eventually. He tugs on Andrew’s hoodie - not very hard, just enough to make him feel it – and is rewarded with Andrew leaning in to meet his lips.

He likes the way they kiss to communicate sometimes. Because words can be exhausting and Neil doesn’t always know what to say. But he thinks their kisses can get their point across better than words ever could.

For instance, this kiss for Neil is, _thank you for trusting me_ and _I won’t let you down_.

For Andrew, it’s probably, _you’re a fucking idiot_ and _thank you for asking_.

Neil thinks he could write a song made up of all the little things they use their kisses to say.

* * *

 

Kevin and Thea bring food with them when they arrive at the house and everyone gathers on the deck to eat a late lunch. Neil ends up in a conversation with Erik as one of the only fluent German speakers at the table.

Nicky is practically sitting in Erik’s lap and is continuously abandoning his food to play with his boyfriend’s hair or smile at him affectionately but Erik is pretty good at multitasking and keeps up his conversation with Neil while still indulging Nicky.

Neil doesn’t know Erik very well but he likes him. Not least of all for all the ways he’d helped Nicky come to terms with his sexuality and become the confident person he is today. Neil has heard the story countless times. Nicky had spent a semester of his senior year in Germany after his parents had put him through some awful form of conversion therapy that had been disguised as some kind of Bible camp. Erik’s family had been his host family and he’d helped Nicky learn to accept himself again after the camp had fucked with his head.

They’d entered a relationship with one another two months before Nicky had to leave – which was just in time, seemingly, since Nicky would be becoming Andrew and Aaron’s legal guardian no less than six months later after their mother died in a car accident – and when it’d been time for Nicky to go they’d agreed they were better off just staying friends.

Fast forward a couple of years to The Monsters getting signed and going on a European tour and there’s someone at their Berlin show apparently begging the security guards to be let backstage. Nicky had heard about it but assumed it was just some fan with a bit of an obsession so he just let it go. It’d turned out Erik had only come to the show because his friend had a spare ticket and had only realised it was _Nicky’s_ show when he’d seen the posters outside the venue.

He’d spent the entire concert trying to push his way to the front row until he finally managed to reach the barrier. It had worked in his favour that the room had been pretty quiet at the time while Nicky introduced one of the songs, “about a boy I met in Germany,” and Erik had caught his attention with an exasperated, “Hey Spätzle! I’m over here!”

Nicky had frozen on stage, cutting off mid-sentence as his eyes scanned the crowd. Spätzle was an inside joke between him and Erik. A word Nicky had found impossible to pronounce much to Erik’s amusement, to the point where it quickly became one of Erik’s nicknames for him. His gaze finally honed in on Erik and before any of the security guards had realised what Nicky was doing he’d hopped off stage, marched straight over to Erik and pulled him into a bruising kiss over the barrier.

Even Neil, who is probably the furthest thing from a hopeless romantic, can admit it’s a pretty amazing story.

It’d also helped The Monsters gain popularity in Europe after someone from the concert had caught the whole thing on video and posted it to YouTube. It went viral overnight and The Monsters’ sales on their first album had skyrocketed; Nicky always gets ridiculously smug when he talks about it.

Neil spends the rest of their lunch talking to Erik – and by extension Nicky – about his job in Stuttgart until everyone finishes eating and they decide to explore the surrounding area. Allison links her arms with the girls and declares they need to hit up the spa that the resort nearby offers. Katelyn, however, elects to skip out on the spa activities so she and Aaron can spend some time alone together after so long apart. They take off hand in hand and Neil doesn’t pay attention to them long enough to see which direction they take.

Neil decides to go for a run along the hiking path and is only mildly surprised when Matt, Kevin and Erik choose to join him. Nicky makes a face at the thought of physical exercise but agrees because he wants to spend time with Erik.

Thea changes Kevin’s mind pretty much instantly when she tells him she wants to check out the pool. Judging by the look on Kevin’s face they won’t be doing much swimming.

When Neil looks to Andrew to see what his plans are Andrew just stares back at him like he’s trying to consider which is the lesser of two evils – running with Neil or staying at the house and potentially overhearing Kevin and Thea.

“It’ll be a short run,” Neil says. “Just to figure out the trail so I don’t get lost in the morning.”

Andrew looks a little like he wants to murder him but he still goes upstairs to change into shorts and a muscle tank. Neil decidedly ignores Andrew’s exposed biceps and focuses on changing his own clothes.

Nicky and Erik separate from them almost immediately when they start the trail, moving at a more leisurely pace while they take in the scenery. Matt and Andrew manage to keep pace with Neil for most of the run until Matt taps out early and says he’s too tired from the flight, deciding to jog back to find Nicky and Erik.

Andrew doesn’t give up even though his breathing is a little ragged and he must be boiling in his all black clothes but all he does is glare at Neil whenever he suggests taking a break.

When Neil has finally had enough he stops, bracing his hands on his thighs while he gets his breath back. He glances Andrew’s way after a moment and finds him sitting down in the middle of the dirt path with his elbows planted on his knees.

“You’re a fucking mutant,” he spits at Neil, running a hand raggedly through his hair. “We’ve been running for an hour and a half and you’re barely sweating; what’s wrong with you?”

Neil grins and offers a hand to Andrew. “Come on. We can walk back, take our time.”

Andrew scowls up at him but accepts Neil’s offered hand and lets Neil pull him to his feet. They’re walking slowly but Neil can see the way Andrew is flushed and how rough his breathing still is. He’d probably been exhausted after the flight made him panic this morning anyway; running definitely mustn’t have helped. After watching Andrew feign indifference for a few minutes longer Neil steps in front of him and makes him stop.

He crouches a little and holds his arms back, craning his neck over his shoulder to catch Andrew’s eye. “Come on,” he urges.

“What,” Andrew replies flatly.

“You didn’t want to do this in the first place,” Neil answers. “Let me carry you back to the house.”

Andrew doesn’t move at first but Neil waits him out, biting back a grin when Andrew places his hands on Neil’s shoulders and hops onto his back. He hooks his hands under Andrew’s knees and begins walking as soon Andrew is secure.

Andrew’s legs hang lazily at his side like he can’t even be bothered to wrap them around Neil’s waist and his hands link loosely around Neil’s neck until Andrew appears tired of remaining upright and drops his chin onto Neil’s shoulder.

Neil refuses to comment on it even though he’s dying to. Even though he’s revelling in the way he’s holding Andrew. Even though he’s hyperaware of all the places they’re touching right now. Andrew must be able to tell anyway because he nudges Neil’s side in warning. Neil fights another smile and keeps moving.

He lets Andrew down when the house comes into sight just in case anyone is on the front porch and might catch sight of them. But the house is more or less empty when they return. Aaron and Katelyn are out on the back decking with Matt and the girls while Nicky and Erik still appear to be missing and Kevin and Thea are presumably behind Kevin’s firmly closed bedroom door.

“You can shower first,” Neil offers when they reach their bedroom, waving vaguely in the direction of the bathroom as he collapses on the bed.

No sooner has he closed his eyes and a towel is hitting him in the face. He pulls it away and glares up at Andrew who kicks at his shoe.

“Get your sweaty ass off our bed,” Andrew orders. “You shower first.”

Neil makes himself sit up and ignores the flutter in his chest when Andrew says _our bed_. He sighs but doesn’t protest and wanders into the bathroom with the towel slung over his shoulder. He showers quickly, scrubbing through his hair with shampoo and washing the sweat and grime off his body.

It’s only when he’s gotten out of the shower and tied the towel around his waist that realises he forgot to bring his clothes into the bathroom with him. Panic flares in his stomach before he remembers Andrew has already seen his scars. He still doesn’t really feel comfortable being exposed like this but he’s trusted Andrew with everything else so Neil figures he can probably trust him with this too.

He steps back out into the bedroom and finds Andrew leaning out the window, smoking a cigarette. He looks over his shoulder at the sound of Neil re-entering the room and does something of a double take. Neil stops moving and holds himself still as Andrew stubs out his cigarette and turns around to face him. He lets Andrew look his fill and tries not to react under the scrutiny.

Andrew walks towards him slowly, stopping just out of reach. He drags his gaze up from Neil’s torso inch by inch until he finally meets his eyes. “Don’t get changed,” he tells him before reaching around Neil to grab his own towel and a pile of clothes off the vanity before disappearing into the bathroom.

Neil stares after him in shock, only snapping back into movement again when the door clicks shut.

He hurriedly dries himself off and slips on a pair of boxer-briefs since he’s pretty sure when Andrew told him not to get dressed that isn’t what he meant.

After pacing the room nervously for a few minutes he decides to sit on the bed while he waits, running his hands over the comforter beneath him and trying in vain to make it distract him from the fact that Andrew is currently showering in the next room over. He hears the shower cut off a few minutes later and his heart immediately starts beating double time.

It takes another five minutes before Andrew comes out of the bathroom, dressed in a pair of sweatpants but otherwise bare.

The first thing he notices is Andrew’s torso, pale and toned and definitely enough to drive Neil to distraction. The second thing he notices is that Andrew isn’t wearing his armbands. He’s shocked when he sees the raised white scars that litter his forearms. He’d always thought the armbands were a stupid way of distinguishing the twins – and more recently realised they held Andrew’s knives. But he never expected this. Though it makes sense, he supposes, considering what Andrew’s been through.

Andrew meets his gaze evenly before saying, “Lie down.”

It makes Neil lose his train of thought and immediately jump to comply, pushing himself up the bed until he can lie back and have his head land on the pillow. Andrew crawls over him painstakingly slowly and Neil swallows hard, nerves tingling at the almost brush of skin when Andrew holds himself over him.

Andrew is pushed up on his elbows hovering above Neil but he still tips his head forward to rest their foreheads together. Neil wets his lips and tilts his head up, just enough to make their noses brush and bring their mouths that little bit closer together.

“Can I put my hands in your hair?” he whispers, hands twisted in the comforter while he waits for Andrew to reply.

Refusing to let his eyes stray from Neil’s, Andrew nods – though really all he manages to do is roll their foreheads against one another. Neil reaches up with shaky hands and slides his fingers into Andrew’s hair, one hand idly scratching at the nape of Andrew’s neck as Andrew skims the tip of his nose down the slope of Neil’s.

Their lips catch then, an off-centre brush that has Neil shivering. Andrew ducks down again, finally flattening his chest against Neil’s as he pries Neil’s mouth open with his own. They kiss and time slips away from Neil.

Things are moving too slowly and too quickly all at once.

Neil’s consciousness begins and ends with Andrew’s mouth; it’s the only thing he can focus on. Everything else feels too heady and is making his head fuzzy.

It’s a few minutes before Andrew starts to move, mouth trailing away from Neil’s and starting a path down Neil’s neck. He strays towards Neil’s collarbones before pausing with his lips a scant inch from the scar that covers Neil’s shoulder and asks a quiet, “Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Neil breathes, eyes drifting shut as Andrew’s mouth brushes over his shoulder.

Andrew works systematically, starting with Neil’s shoulder and leaving a trail of soft kisses in his wake as he maps out the marks on Neil’s torso. Neil cards his fingers through Andrew’s hair as his throat bobs, releasing a quiet noise when Andrew bites down on a clear patch of skin by his hip.

“You can leave a mark,” he mumbles, trying hard not to squirm under Andrew’s ministrations.

Andrew pauses for the length of a breath before sucking on the same spot as before with a bit more force. He worries the patch of skin between his teeth, biting and sucking until Neil’s hands are tugging on his hair and he’s pulling back to inspect his handiwork.

Neil’s eyes flicker open just in time to see Andrew’s hooded gaze turn to him.

Slowly, deliberately, Andrew ducks his head again and brushes his mouth over the spot where he left a mark, not breaking eye contact with Neil once.

Neil’s throat is so dry he can’t get his words out but he eventually manages to remember how to speak. “Get up here,” he murmurs, not quite a plea but not quite an order either.

Andrew’s mouth twitches in an almost-smile before he drags himself up over Neil’s body again, allowing Neil to use his grip on his hair to tug him down into another kiss. Neil is so consumed with kissing him he doesn’t even notice Andrew’s wandering hand until it reaches the hem of his briefs.

He pauses, just long enough to see if Neil will protest, but when all Neil does is kiss him harder Andrew’s hand slips beneath the fabric.

Neil’s mouth falters as soon as Andrew gets a hand around his cock. He goes rigid for the briefest moment before he lets Andrew’s mouth coax him into another languid kiss and lets Andrew’s hand make him melt into the mattress. He goes pliant even as Andrew’s pace increases, allowing his breathy moans to be muffled by the continuous press of their lips together.

It doesn’t take long before he’s shuddering through his orgasm, mouth going slack against Andrew’s while Andrew works him through it. Andrew kisses him once more on the side of his mouth before he slides his hand out of Neil’s underwear and disappears off the bed. Neil picks his head up long enough to watch him slip into the bathroom before falling back against the pillows.

He’s not sure he’s able to move right now.

Andrew returns sooner than he expects, climbing back onto the bed and lying down next to Neil. He doesn’t look any different except for the flush on his cheeks and chest. Neil watches him out of the corner of his eye until he gives in and rolls onto his side to read him more clearly.

“You good?” he murmurs.

Andrew rolls his head to look at him before nodding.

Neil reaches a hand out, letting it hover over Andrew’s still bare arm while he waits for Andrew’s answer.

Andrew’s moment of hesitation is barely noticeable as he presents his arm to Neil. Neil takes it carefully, fingers skimming over Andrew’s skin with a feather-light touch as he inspects the scars. His fingers barely ghost over them, unsure if Andrew wants him to or not. After a minute or so he breaks the silence, unable to keep his question to himself.

“How come you let me see them?” he wonders aloud, sliding his fingers into the spaces between Andrew’s and letting their joined hands drop onto the mattress between them.

“You let me see yours.”

“For a price,” Neil reminds him. “Fair trade, remember?”

Andrew had closed his eyes when Neil had begun touching his arm; he opens them now, gaze settling on Neil’s face. “You didn’t pay a price today,” he says. “Just because you let me see them once doesn’t mean you suddenly feel okay enough to walk around shirtless all the time.”

Neil hums in acknowledgement. “I still didn’t expect you to do that though. You didn’t have to.”

“Maybe I was feeling agreeable today,” Andrew mumbles, eyes drifting shut once again.

They don’t speak anymore after that and Neil eventually decides to close his own eyes too.

Neither of them sleep but somehow lying together is just as settling.

*


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew appraises him for a moment before speaking. “If they try to get close, they will lose,” he says flatly. “I’m not leaving you alone, I told you.”
> 
> “Even at the expense of leaving Kevin alone?” Neil asks, nodding in the vague direction of their bandmates’ table.
> 
> “He’s with Thea,” Andrew replies boredly. “Her biceps are bigger than Kevin’s will ever be.”
> 
> Neil bites back a laugh and nods in acceptance. “Fair enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay I'll do my sappy, emotional notes at the end but a few things: this is probably already apparent to you guys from the previous chapters but there are a few lines from the books scattered throughout this story which are obviously not my creation. also. if it wasn't already clear, troye sivan's updated mv of wild really stressed me out andreil-wise so there might be a spoken line from that video in here too ;)
> 
> Songs featured/mentioned in this chapter are:  
> Trouble - Halsey  
> Coming Down - Halsey  
> Too Good - Troye Sivan  
> Wild Things - Alessia Cara  
> Talk Me Down - Troye Sivan  
> For Him - Troye Sivan  
> (I told y'all i was appropriating all of troye's songs this is news to no one lmao)
> 
> Enjoy <3

Neil wakes up at five o’clock in the morning to someone banging on their bedroom door. It makes both him and Andrew startle awake and Neil is briefly thankful the bed is so big because if they’d been sleeping any closer together they probably would’ve given each other black eyes. Andrew climbs out of bed with a murderous expression and storms over to their door, wrenching it open so hard Neil hears the hinges squeak.

“ _What_ ,” he demands at a frantic Kevin.

It says a lot about Kevin’s current state that he doesn’t even flinch at Andrew’s threatening expression, just shoves his phone into Andrew’s chest. Andrew snatches it off him with a huff, staring at the screen for a second before going still.

Neil instantly feels dread settle in his stomach where he’s still perched on the bed. Something is wrong.

“What is it?” he asks when Andrew has been too quiet for too long.

Kevin’s gaze snaps to his in a knee-jerk reaction and that’s all Neil needs to know before he understands.

Digging his nails into the palm of his hand, he asks, “What did Riko do?”

That finally seems to shake Andrew back into action as he wanders away from Kevin, coming to Neil’s side of the bed and handing over the phone. Neil is absently aware of Kevin following Andrew into the room but as soon as the words on the screen sink in his mind goes blank.

The phone is open on YouTube with a video paused and ready to be played. The title says “Raven – Winter Recital Performance” and suddenly Kevin’s pale face makes even more sense. This is the last performance they did before Riko broke Kevin’s hand. Everyone at the recital had spent the night praising Kevin and calling him a prodigy. It was a slight too many against Riko after Kevin had increasingly been moving into the spotlight of their band as they grew in popularity. Two hours after the performance Riko had pinned Kevin down and used the snapped off, splintered neck of his guitar to destroy Kevin’s left hand.

Neil, Jean and Tetsuji were the only people who knew the real reason for Kevin’s injury. As far as everyone else at school was concerned it had been a tragic skiing accident. No one even knew if Kevin would be able to play again until he was signed with The Monsters two and a half years later.

Neil’s finger is shaking as he taps the screen to press play. One of their original songs begins to filter out through the phone speaker and all the breath is instantly sucked from his lungs. They look so young, so unaware of the horror about to rain down on them – Riko had become even more violent with Neil and Jean after Kevin left.

Barely thirty seconds of the song plays before Kevin is grabbing his phone back and turning it off. The look on his face says he’s miles away, stuck in a bathroom with Riko looming over him. Neil looks away from him when he feels bile rise in his throat.

“What do we do?” he asks quietly.

No one answers him at first until Kevin sinks heavily onto the mattress by Neil’s feet. “I’m calling Dad,” he mutters, face hidden behind his hands. It’s a testament to how shaken Kevin must be feeling to say he’s actually referring to Wymack as “dad”. Neil has only ever heard him call him Wymack in the ten months he’s been with them.

“It’s what we said would happen,” Andrew answers, voice worryingly calm as he nudges Neil over and takes a seat on the bed. “He’s drawing this out.”

“There were never videos of us on the internet before,” Neil agrees. “I checked every few months.”

“Tetsuji had them wiped,” Kevin adds desolately. “He’s trying to build us up again so the fallout will be even more catastrophic.” He scrubs a hand through his hair before unlocking his phone again, presumably to call Wymack.

Neil can feel the countdown hanging above his head get that little bit closer to zero. Riko has always thrived on taunting him and taking away things he wants. Neil always had too much of an attitude problem to be completely subordinate the way Jean or Kevin could’ve been. It’d just made Riko want to crush him underfoot even more.

Kevin gets up to pace the room while he talks to Wymack and Andrew catches Neil under his chin, tipping his head to make him look up.

They make eye contact while Kevin’s back is turned and Neil nods at the silent question in his eyes.

He’s okay. _He’s okay, he’s okay, he’s_ -

He doesn’t know.

Seeing right through him, Andrew moves his hand until he’s grasping the back of Neil’s neck, not tight enough to hurt but with enough pressure to make Neil feel grounded.

Kevin hangs up after a minute or so, turning back to Neil and Andrew with an empty expression. “They can try to get the video taken down but with the Moriyamas behind it, more will pop up in minutes. Besides the damage is already done. It already has over a million views and it’s only been up for eight hours.”

Neil nods for lack of anything else to say. What _can_ he say?

He and Kevin both know how Riko works. They both know how powerful the Moriyamas are. They’ll be lucky to get out of this alive, honestly.

Neil forcibly shakes the thought out of his head and stands up, making Andrew’s hand fall away from his neck. He strides over to the bag he never bothered to unpack yesterday and goes searching for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. He needs to stop staying still, he needs to move, he needs to _get out, go, run, don’t stop_ -

A hand on his shoulder makes him stop.

Andrew pulls him back up to his feet and turns him around, hands framing Neil’s face and forcing to look at him. “What are you doing.”

It’s not a question. Neil answers anyway.

His eyes flit all over Andrew’s face as he tries to quell the mounting panic in his chest until he eventually manages to whisper a hoarse, “Going for a run.”

Andrew studies him, making Neil feel horribly exposed but he doesn’t flinch away. After a moment, Andrew sighs and loosens his grip. “As long as you come back.”

Neil deflates a little at that, working up a tremulous smile and reaching up to wrap his hands around Andrew’s wrists. “Promise.”

Andrew releases him and lets Neil go for his bag again. He changes in the bathroom and when he comes back out to get his running shoes the room is empty.

He doesn’t see anyone in the hallway either and Kevin’s door is closed when Neil passes it. He decides not to worry about it now, taking the stairs two at a time and picking up his pace when he reaches the front door. He barely manages to slow down long enough to lock the door before he’s bolting towards the trail. He doesn’t warm up, he doesn’t pace himself, he just runs until he physically can’t anymore. Until Riko feels far enough away that he can’t touch him.

It’s pushing 7am when he finally stops and his legs give out. He falls to his knees and inhales a laboured breath, pushing his sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes.

The sun has fully risen by now and Neil looks around him, squinting in the harsh light and panicking a little when he realises everything looks the same. He doesn’t know how far he is from the house or which turns he took. He decides to walk back to be on the safe side.

It takes him twice as long to find his way back and he feels close to collapsing by the time he pushes the front door open. Allison, Renee, Nicky and Erik are all sitting in the lounge when Neil enters and he grits his teeth when the conversation abruptly ceases on sight of him.

He knows he must look like a mess and he also knows Kevin’s probably told them by now what happened.

Not quite ready to deal with their caring and concerned words, he cuts them off before they get a chance to talk. “Where’s Andrew?”

Nicky gives him a worried look but obediently answers with, “Kitchen.”

Neil nods in thanks and makes a beeline for the other room to find Andrew sitting alone in the kitchen with a bottle of water and two mugs in front of him, one empty and one half-full.

When he spots Neil in the doorway he pours the contents of the coffee pot into the empty mug and pushes it across the table towards him along with the water.

Neil sighs and falls into the chair opposite Andrew, pulling the cup closer. “Thank you.”

He instantly sets about chugging the water to stop his mouth from feeling like it’s stuck together before moving onto the coffee. They don’t talk for a few minutes, just sip at their coffee and watch each other when they think the other person isn’t looking.

“What do you want to do today?” Andrew asks once he’s emptied his cup.

Neil toys with his mug, considering tagging along with everyone else but dismissing it when the thought makes his stomach clench. He just wants to disappear for a while. “I want to change our cover song.”

It’s clearly the last thing Andrew expects. He stares at Neil in disbelief but he recovers quickly. “I thought this was meant to be our week off?”

“I need a distraction,” Neil sighs. “At least that’ll be a productive one. Besides, I have a new song in mind.”

Andrew considers him with a tilt of his head before nodding. “Go shower and meet me on the roof.”

With that, Andrew picks up their mugs to put them in the sink and promptly leaves the room.

* * *

 

Neil finds Andrew sitting on the roof smoking a cigarette when he finishes in the shower. Brushing his damp hair back off his face, he grabs his guitar case from where it’s leaning against the wall and climbs through the window.

Andrew scoots over a little when he hears him approaching, neck craned to watch him while he gets settled. Neil sets his guitar case down between them, waiting for Andrew to take a final drag before he stubs the butt out.

It’s quieter up here, looking out over their garden and the surrounding mountains. Neil can still see a few of the others lounging on the deck below but their voices don’t carry very far beyond a vague hum of noise.

Neil opens his case then, picking up his guitar and settling it in his lap. Andrew makes no move to go find his own guitar but Neil figures they can work with one for now.

“So what’s the song?” Andrew asks finally.

Neil fishes his phone out of his pocket to pull up the lyrics. He hands it over without a word, watching Andrew scan the screen for a minute before asking, “You know it?”

Andrew nods faintly, locking the phone and setting it down on the sill just inside the window.

“Wanna run through it and see how it sounds?”

[Andrew nods again](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h2aTxmwRiJQ), gesturing for Neil to start off. Neil holds his gaze for a second too long before clearing his throat and playing the opening chords.  Andrew takes the first verse without prompting and Neil instantly feels his stomach swoop. Even with the impassive look on his face, the scratchy quality of Andrew’s voice lends itself to such a raw, vulnerable tone. It’s stunning.

Neil watches him, entranced.

Somewhere between the first verse and the pre-chorus Andrew reaches up and slides a hand around the back of Neil’s neck. He squeezes lightly once, voice pitching lower even as he continues.

 _“I bet you kiss your knuckles, Right before they touch my cheek,”_ he sings, thumb brushing gently over Neil’s cheekbone.

Neil falters, fingers slipping on the guitar strings before he picks back up again. He swallows around the lump in his throat and joins Andrew for the chorus. Like always, their voices together send a rush through him. It just sounds so different to when they sing on their own or with Nicky or even Kevin or Aaron. It sounds like all the words they never say out loud.

_“Go on and light a cigarette, set a fire in my head.  
Set a fire in my head, tonight.”_

Neil begins the second verse and sees Andrew’s eyes darken at the line Neil had written on his hand during the flight. He squeezes the back of Neil’s neck once more before he lets him go, hand falling flat on the space between them.

Neil can’t look away from him, can’t stop cataloguing every minute movement of Andrew’s body. When he decided to stay on with The Monsters he never intended to fall into this. He hadn’t even been _looking_ for this. But it’s been almost five weeks since he first tasted Andrew’s lips and now he can’t imagine life without it.

Andrew cuts him off at the bridge, singing the lyrics, “ _Don't forget me, don't forget me. I wouldn't leave you if you'd let me…”_ with such quiet conviction Neil feels his heart tighten in his chest.

“ _When you met me, when you met me_ ,” Neil sings back to him, unconsciously swaying closer. _“You told me you were gonna get me.”_

The words send him back to their own first meeting, sitting on a back porch with Andrew reading him like a book after only knowing him for a matter of minutes. It’d been disconcerting to have someone figure him out so quickly. Now, he’s almost relieved Andrew understands him the way he does. Having someone he never has to explain himself to is something he never really knew he needed.

He thinks Andrew might be one of the only people he’s ever met strong enough to withstand the horrors of Neil’s past.

Neil can feel them both leaning in, can feel the distance accidentally closing between them. But it isn’t until Andrew sings the final, “ _Set a fire in my head tonight_ ,” right against his mouth that Neil realises they’re kissing.

The guitar keeps them from pushing closer but Andrew still grips the parts of him he can reach tightly, burying one hand in Neil’s hair to turn his head.

They kiss the only way they know how. Like it’s a fight. Like time is running out. Like they could climb inside one another’s bones if they pressed close enough. Neil may not have kissed a lot of people but he doesn’t think anyone else in the world could ever kiss him like this.

“So you like it then?” he asks, exhaling sharply in the second it takes to detach their mouths.

“I don’t hate it,” Andrew mumbles, most of the words lost to Neil’s mouth. “I hate you though.”

Neil just hums in acknowledgement and lets go of the guitar with one hand to slide is fingers into Andrew’s hair.

They don’t get much more rehearsal done that day.

* * *

 

The rest of the week passes in a fairly quiet manner. Wymack calls them Tuesday morning to tell them the video has been taken down and that Abby has released a rep statement to try and diffuse the media frenzy but Neil ignores his social media all the same.

Other than that everything is calm. They eat, they drink, they sleep and it all feels very settled. Sometimes it’s hard for Neil to remember he’s known these people for less than a year; he feels a comfort and an ease with them he can’t ever remember feeling with anyone else – not even his own mother. Their easy acceptance of him, fierce protectiveness and concern is still hard for him to wrap his head around but he doesn’t balk at the sight of a caring gesture anymore.

The nights with Andrew are also more than Neil ever could have dreamed of. It’s kisses that taste like smoke and whiskey. It’s wandering hands and the cherry of their cigarettes glowing in the dark on the roof.  It’s waking up in the morning and still finding Andrew next to him – either awake or asleep but still _there_. It feels good to be able to explore each other for a few days without the distractions. He’s greedy when it comes to Andrew; he wants to learn everything he can and right now he’s only just scratched the surface. But this week has helped him delve a little bit deeper.

Wymack meets them at JFK airport like he promised on Sunday evening, looking like he’d gotten even less sleep than he’d been getting _before_ they went on break. Guilt sits heavily in Neil’s stomach knowing that part of the reason for Wymack’s sleepless nights is him trying to clean up his and Kevin’s mess.

But then Wymack scrubs a hand over Kevin’s head when he’s within touching distance and claps a hand on Neil’s shoulder and some of the guilt ebbs. Wymack is Kevin’s father and their manager. For all the grief they cause him, Neil knows Wymack genuinely cares and wants to protect them.

“Alright maggots, let’s roll out,” he calls, getting everyone’s attention. “You’re already checked in at the hotel so let’s get back, order some room service and rest up before tomorrow night’s show. Madison Square Garden. Welcome to the big leagues.”

Neil feels adrenaline pump through his veins at the name. Madison Square Garden. They’re going to be playing _Madison Square Garden_ and suddenly Riko’s stupid mind games and everything else the Moriyamas intend to throw at them don’t feel so scary. This is the moment Neil has been waiting for his entire life and he got here _without_ Riko.

He gets to play one of the most famous venues in the world and he gets to do it with his new family at his side.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

* * *

 

It’s thirty seconds to show time and Neil is so nervous he thinks he might vomit.

They’re standing in a huddle, attempting to listen to Kevin’s admittedly terrible pep talk but they’re all too distracted by the sound of the crowd. They’re chanting for their arrival and drowning out all other noise. The only thing Neil is aware of besides that are Nicky and Andrew’s arms, heavy and overlapping across his shoulders.

One of the stagehands breaks up their huddle with ten seconds to go and Nicky, Andrew and Neil reach for their instruments. When there’s five seconds to go they run on stage, each making a beeline for their mics while Aaron and Kevin go straight to the drums and keyboard respectively.

Zero seconds and the lights go up.

Aaron clacks his drumsticks together three times and they start playing as one, lights flashing in time with the beat until the song intro ends and they begin to sing.

It feels like their first concert all over again. Neil isn’t even sure if all the noise he’s hearing is the screams of the crowd or the blood rushing in his ears.

He feels _alive_. More alive than he’s felt in the longest time. And he knows, in his heart of hearts, that this is what he was born to do.

Despite his mother trying to shield him from music, despite his father’s threats and beatings, despite Riko and his mind games, Neil got here. And he plans to stay. This is where he belongs.

The show passes in a blur, so quickly Neil can’t believe it when they reach the halfway point and it’s time for him and Andrew to sing their duet.

“Uh so you guys might know by now that Andrew and I usually like to spend these few minutes playing a cover for you,” Neil says to the audience while Andrew adjusts his mic beside him. “Well, we decided to work on something new for tonight.”

Neil uses the brief moment where the crowd hype themselves up to move his mic stand. They’d decided before going on stage that they were going to perform facing each other instead of the crowd. Neil isn’t sure if Andrew agreed because he felt more comfortable singing the lyrics at Neil and blocking the crowd out or if he just didn’t care.

Either way, Neil feels his heart speed up when Andrew meets his gaze once he sings the first line.

The crowd goes ballistic but Neil doesn’t really hear it. For the three and a half minutes that they’re singing all he can hear is Andrew.

The remainder of the show passes just as quickly as the first half and before Neil knows it he’s taking his final bow with the boys and it’s over.

An official after party is scheduled tonight since they’re celebrating such a momentous concert even though they can’t have too much fun since they’re supposed to be on the Kathy Ferdinand show at seven o’clock in the morning tomorrow. But somehow Neil doesn’t think that’ll stop his bandmates or The Upperclassmen from making the most of the open bar.

Everyone backstage is buzzing when their show ends and most of the crew is waiting for them when they arrive to the backstage area. Erik, Katelyn and Thea, who had all decided to stay an extra few days to be here for the show, are amongst the crowd. Erik and Katelyn immediately make a beeline for Nicky and Aaron to wrap them up in congratulatory hugs while Kevin and Thea choose to disappear off into a corner to talk privately.

Neil doesn’t get much time to stand idle before he’s caught up in a frenzy of congratulations and people trying to talk to him; almost forty-five minutes have passed by the time he actually makes it to the car for the after party. It’s being held at some swanky hotel that Neil feels none of The Monsters have any real business being at but he doesn’t say that out loud. The sidewalk is swarmed with paparazzi when they pull up and he grimaces at the thought of having to walk through them. The camera flashes and the yelling always makes him feel so disorientated, it sets his panic simmering under the surface.

He’s only slightly more relieved when he sees their bodyguards waiting for them but it still doesn’t do much to alleviate the tension in his shoulders.

Kevin exits the car first with Thea’s hand in his. Even with his back to him, Neil can tell Kevin’s wearing his hundred watt smile. If only the public knew that his default expression is actually a condescending frown. Aaron follows him with Katelyn on his arm and Nicky and Erik step out immediately after them until only Andrew and Neil are left in the car.

Andrew stares at him, clearly waiting for Neil to go first. “Sometime today, Josten,” he says blandly, gesturing towards the open door.

Steeling himself, Neil shuffles across the seat and climbs out of the car.

His bodyguard is waiting directly outside and puts a hand on Neil’s shoulder to lead him through the mass of yelling middle-aged men with flashing cameras. Neil swallows down his panic and keeps his eyes to the ground while security clears the path for him. He’s halfway through the crowd when he feels a hand on his back.

He tenses up for a split second, ready to lash out when he thinks it’s a paparazzo that somehow got through the lines of security, but then he recognises the hand. He doesn’t look back because he doesn’t want to draw attention to it but he relaxes under the touch, knowing Andrew is right behind him, at his back like he promised he would be.

They make it through the swarm not long after and Neil breathes a sigh of relief when he reaches the hotel door. Andrew presses his hand more firmly into the small of Neil’s back for the briefest moment before letting it fall away and appears at his side.

He doesn’t look at Neil but he says, “Come on,” and sets off towards the function room where the party is being held so Neil obediently follows behind him until they reach a set of double doors.

If Neil didn’t know better, he would assume they’ve just stepped into a nightclub. The lights are dimmed and the vast majority of the room is taken up by a giant dancefloor with high tables lining the walls. The music is so loud Neil can feel the bass pounding in his pulse. He takes a moment to adjust before locating Nicky, Aaron and Kevin showing their dates to one of the tables. Andrew’s hand snags in Neil’s jacket before he can think to move towards them and he begins towing him towards the crowded bar.

It takes forever to make it to the front of the bar and the crush of people keep forcing him into Andrew’s space – not that Neil is complaining – until they’re finally able to brace themselves against the countertop. One of the barmen does a double take upon seeing them and immediately abandons their other customer in favour of serving Andrew.

Before he can even get a word out Andrew begins rattling off a list of drinks, making Neil stare at him, vaguely impressed.

The barman flounders slightly at first, mouth opening and closing, before he exclaims a harried, “Right away!” and rushes to grab some glasses.

Andrew watches after him for a moment before slanting his glance towards Neil. “Feeling overwhelmed, Abram?”

Neil scrubs a hand through his hair uncomfortably, forcing himself to meet Andrew’s gaze. “I don’t like crowds.”

“They’re easy to disappear in,” Andrew comments.

“Exactly,” Neil grimaces. Crowds might be an easy way to run off without anyone noticing but they’re also an easy way for someone to _take_ him without anyone noticing. Despite his fear of Riko or his father’s associates catching up to him, Neil’s never _had_ to run. He’s always been ahead of the game that way; he leaves before anyone even starts looking. But now with Riko lurking and knowing the Moriyamas have not taken too kindly to his foray into the spotlight, Neil isn’t exactly a fan of making it any easier for them to get to him.

Andrew appraises him for a moment before speaking. “If they try to get close, they will lose,” he says flatly. “I’m not leaving you alone, I told you.”

“Even at the expense of leaving Kevin alone?” Neil asks, nodding in the vague direction of their bandmates’ table.

“He’s with Thea,” Andrew replies boredly. “Her biceps are bigger than Kevin’s will ever be.”

Neil bites back a laugh and nods in acceptance. “Fair enough.”

Andrew hums in reply, attention drawn back to the bar as the barman returns with a tray of drinks. Andrew nods in thanks before picking the tray up and lifting it above his head. Neil clears a path for him to the table and obligingly steps aside when they reach the others so Andrew can set the drinks down.

They each down their first shot while Neil abstains and Kevin starts necking vodka like his life depends on it. Nicky and Aaron look like they’re racing each other to see who can finish their drinks the quickest. Within minutes they’ve all disappeared onto the dancefloor with the girls, leaving Andrew and Neil alone.

Though they don’t stay alone for very long. Industry people and celebrities alike are continuously appearing at their table to congratulate them and engage in mind-numbing small talk to the point where Neil actually regrets not hiding on the dancefloor with the others.

After the twentieth person in the last half hour comes up to them Andrew seems to be having the same idea because without so much as an “excuse me” he grabs Neil’s wrist and pulls him off his chair, ignoring the newest leech and dragging Neil into the crowd of people.

His hands find Neil’s waist as soon as he stops and pull him close. When Neil gives him a questioning look he rolls his eyes and says, “You’ll get lost.”

Neil tries and fails to hide his smirk, slinging his arms loosely over Andrew’s shoulders and linking his fingers together behind his neck. “Sure.”

Andrew glares at him, squeezing his hips in warning.

It only has the effect of making Neil’s grin widen and in the end Andrew has to tug him in for a bruising kiss to finally get the smile to slip off his face.

Again, Neil is not complaining.

* * *

 

It feels like Neil has only had his eyes closed for a matter of seconds when the alarm on his phone goes off. Groaning, he rolls over and shoves a hand under his pillow to silence it before squinting his eyes open.

5am.

He’s been in bed for exactly one hour.

At the very least, he’s not suffering from a hangover like the rest of his bandmates surely are. Not that that’s making him feeling much better right now. He drags himself out of bed with his eyes half closed, fumbling around in the dark until he locates his bag. He throws a hoodie on over the t-shirt he’d worn to bed and changes into a pair of sweatpants; there’s no point in making an effort with his appearance when he’ll only have to change at the studio anyway.

He winces at the fluorescent light of the bathroom and more or less brushes his teeth with his eyes closed. When he returns to the main room of his suite he shoves his phone and wallet into his pocket and makes his way out the door.

He meets Aaron and Katelyn at the elevators. Katelyn offers him weak smile behind the huge sunglasses she’s using to cover the bags under her eyes while Aaron just looks at him for half a second before turning his head to rest it against Katelyn’s shoulder and closing his eyes. Neil goes to lean against the wall as soon as the elevator door opens and attempts to sleep standing up for the twenty seconds it takes to ride down to the ground floor.

Wymack is waiting for them in the lobby with a half-asleep Kevin being propped up by Thea who appears to be lightly smacking his cheek periodically to keep him awake. Andrew is curled up in the chair to Wymack’s left with his hood pulled over his head and a thermos clutched in his hands.

Neil nods at Wymack and moves to sit on the arm of Andrew’s chair while they wait for Nicky and Erik. Andrew shifts to lean his weight against Neil’s side and Neil drops one of his hands to brush over Andrew’s. Andrew obligingly pushes the thermos into his hand and Neil gratefully takes a drink of his – sickly sweet but still drinkable – coffee.

Nicky stumbles into the lobby a few minutes later tucked into Erik’s side, clad in dark sunglasses like Katelyn.

Wymack glances at each of them amusedly before folding his arms. “I hope you’re planning on greeting Kathy Ferdinand with more enthusiasm than you just greeted me.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Nicky promises around a giant yawn.

“We’re musicians,” Aaron grumbles petulantly, “Not actors.”

Wymack snorts derisively and begins shepherding them out the door. “Whatever. Come on. We have to be at the studio in thirty minutes; the car is waiting.

They pile into two separate cars with Abby keeping Nicky, Erik, Katelyn and Aaron company in one and Wymack watching over Neil, Andrew, Kevin and Thea in the other. They reach the studio far too quickly considering New York traffic and Neil internally sighs – if there’s one downside to this job it’s interviews; he is not and never has been a people person.

Kathy greets them personally when they arrive inside, her bubbly personality already grating on Neil’s nerves. “I’m so glad you boys could be here!” she says enthusiastically, moving down the line to shake each of their hands. “You sure know how to make a girl’s day.”

Kevin takes over their collective reply and offers her a charming smile and a kiss on the cheek. (Neil wonders idly if his breath still smells of alcohol.)

“Thank you so much for having us,” he greets warmly. “We’re really happy to be here.”

Kathy practically swoons under the attention as a man in a headset comes up alongside her. She glances at the runner and whatever he’s pointing to on his clipboard before refocusing her too wide grin on The Monsters. “Greg here will show you to your dressing room. Feel free to help yourself to the breakfast buffet; we’ll need you on stage by 7:05.”

They nod their acquiescence and Kathy – reluctantly, it appears – relinquishes them to Greg.

They’re divided up between two dressing rooms so they have plenty of space, not that any of them even do anything besides lounge in their chairs while Hair and Makeup attack their faces. Wymack goes between both rooms to give them the usual reminder to actually _implement_ their media training if a question they don’t like comes up.

Kevin answers him with a condescending, “I know.”

Andrew merely stares at him.

Neil gives him an unconvincing, “Yes, Wymack.”

Wymack gives up on them with a wave of a hand and goes into the other room to work on Nicky and Aaron.

By 6:45 the casual pace everyone had been working at dissipates and is replaced by a flurry of activity as stagehands and assistants run around the entire backstage area to make sure everything is ready for showtime. Someone swings by their dressing rooms to fit them with their mic packs and then they’re ushered out into the corridor that leads to the main stage.

At 6:59 Kathy takes the stage to get ready to greet her audience. Neil watches from the wings as the head producer does a silent countdown and the light above the audience illuminates to reveal a bright red “LIVE” sign. God, Neil really hates live TV. Biting his tongue isn’t a skill he excels at so the two don’t exactly bode well together.

Kevin elbows him in the stomach when he thinks Neil is daydreaming and Neil glares at him before focusing on Kathy talking to her audience.

“Well don’t I have a special show in store for you guys today!” she exclaims to another round of applause. “They played one of the most standout shows of their career last night in Madison Square Garden-“ she emphasises Madison Square Garden to get the desired reaction from the audience, “- But they got up early this morning just to come visit little old me. Please put your hands together for one of the industry’s biggest bands right now: The Monsters!”

They file out onto the stage one by one with Kevin leading the charge while the audience whoops and claps for them. Kevin greets Kathy first with a kiss on the cheek and a half hug, Andrew follows him and accepts her handshake with a grip that’s probably a little too tight judging by the way her smile tightens. Neil gives her a polite handshake and tries not to make a face when she leans in to kiss his cheek.

There’s a couch on either side of her desk but the one to the left has two stools set up behind it so Neil assumes that’s where they’re sitting. Kevin takes the coveted seat closest to Kathy’s table – well, not so much coveted by anyone else in the band since three out of five like to avoid people at all costs but it’s certainly the seat befitting the frontman in any franchise. See, Neil learned _something_ from his media training.

Andrew takes the middle cushion and Neil sits next to him on the other end of the couch while Aaron and Nicky move to the stools once they’ve said hello to Kathy. Kathy rounds her table to take her own seat and shuffles her cue cards before flashing her grin at each of them.

“So boys, tell me,” she says, like she’s requesting them to divulge a secret. “How was last night?”

“I think I speak for all of us when I say last night was surreal,” Kevin answers with a manufactured self-deprecating smile. “We were so honoured and humbled to be given the opportunity to play at MSG and we’re just so thankful we got to share the night with our fans and all our friends and family.”

Kathy nods along with him, hooked on every word. “Of course! And let me be the first to day, you did a phenomenal job! If you ask me, you boys have really stepped up your game since you added your fifth member. Neil, tell me a little bit about the transition of joining an already fully formed band.”

Neil takes a second to compose himself before arranging a somewhat pleasant smile on his face. It’s not hard when he gets to talk about his family. “I got really lucky,” he admits. “The guys welcomed me with open arms and were really receptive to my ideas so, musically, working with them was easy. It feels like we’ve been playing together for years.”

“Not to bring up any sour details, but can I ask about the in-fighting?” Kathy asks with an apologetic expression that Neil doesn’t believe for a second. “The media was all up in a heap a few months ago because there was apparently some kind of rivalry between you and Andrew. Though, you seem quite close now?”

Neil is about to answer since he knows Andrew won’t but Nicky comes to the rescue before he can even open his mouth. “That was all hearsay!” he snorts, waving a dismissive hand. “Andrew and Neil obviously had to work more closely than the rest of us since they play the same instrument and of course they took time to adjust but they’ve always gotten along.”

Kathy hums in agreement but Neil doesn’t trust the glint in her eyes as she redirects her attention to him and Andrew. “Well, now that you mention it, the press has started to look at you two differently. Apparently there’s rumours flying that you might be… _involved_.”

Pictures flash up on the TV screen behind her of him and Andrew on stage as well as one of the paparazzi shots from last night. It appears to be the moment right where Andrew had reached out to touch his back when they were trying to get into the hotel. Neil only drags his eyes away from them when Kathy speaks again.

“Care to comment?” she asks wryly, dropping her chin into her hand and arching an elegant eyebrow.

Neil clears his throat and resists fidgeting. Beside him Andrew remains unmoved but his knee presses against Neil’s in silent support. “We’ve always been close,” Neil replies stiltedly. “The press just refused to acknowledge it before.”

“So there’s nothing going on between you two?” she presses, looking to Andrew this time for confirmation. When Andrew only stares her down she deflates momentarily before her perky grin reappears once more. “Fine! Play it coy for now! We all remember what young love is like!” She winks at the monitor while the audience chuckle politely and Neil is honestly impressed with Andrew’s self-control right now. Wymack must’ve bribed him with whiskey.

Kathy cycles through a few more questions, making sure to chat to each of them individually for a few minutes until her attention falls to Neil and Kevin. Neil sees the shrewd look in her eye and immediately starts dreading her next question. He has a feeling he knows where this is going.

“Now Kevin and Neil,” she begins, voice extra syrupy and grating on Neil’s nerves. “You’ve been keeping a secret from us…when were you planning on telling us you were in a band with Riko Moriyama?!”

Neil just about suppresses his flinch while Kevin tucks his left hand closer to his chest in an unconscious tell.

“It was a long time ago,” Kevin replies, voice strained. “I don’t think anyone likes reliving their awkward high school memories, Kathy.” His joke falls completely flat but Kathy waves her hands in a “pshaw”-like gesture and continues before he can say anymore.

“But Riko Moriyama!” she exclaims. “I can only imagine what a force of nature you three must’ve been together.”

“It wasn’t just us,” Neil says because, dammit, Jean might’ve been young and stupid when he decided to stay with Riko but he still deserves credit for what he can do. “Jean was in the band too.”

“Ah, yes. Riko’s drummer Jean Moreau,” Kathy nods knowingly though Neil is pretty sure she knows fuck-all. “What made you two leave and Jean stay?”

Kevin’s face is pale as he stares down at the scars on his hand. He has a haunted look on his expression when he raises his head again. “When I broke my hand I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to play again. I was holding the band back.”

Kathy nods, expression full of sympathy as she regards Kevin. “You’re truly a miracle story, Kevin. I think we can all agree the way you bounced back is remarkable.”

His “thank you” would be inaudible if not for the mic attached to his collar.

“What about you Neil?”

Neil frowns, trying to keep the hostility off his face. “Riko was never able to offer me what I needed. I’m happier with The Monsters.”

Kathy gets that glazed kind of look in her eyes that some interviewers get that means she’s not really listening to him as she smiles her over-the-top smile again. “Well, I have a bit of a surprise for you boys. How would you like to see another special guest?” She directs the last part to the audience and Neil feels his blood run cold when he recognises the music playing overhead. He locks panicked eyes with Kevin as Kathy announces, “Please put your hands together for the Raven King himself, Riko Moriyama!”

The audience breaks out into raucous applause and Andrew’s fingers digging into Neil’s thigh are the only thing keeping him from bolting as Riko strides out on stage, wearing all black and reaching out to embrace Kathy. Neil has successfully evaded Riko for four years; seeing him now is like seeing a ghost.

This isn’t supposed to happen. This was just supposed to be a standard interview. There’s no way Wymack could’ve known.

Neil looks to Andrew and finds his gaze narrowed on where Riko is still greeting Kathy. At that moment he turns towards the couch, looking first to Kevin and then Neil.

“Kevin,” he says, outstretching his arms. “It’s been too long.”

Kevin stands up to hug him and looks physically sick when he drops back down next to Andrew. Neil stands up next because he knows he has to play this right. He shakes off Andrew’s hand and lets Riko pull him into a hug.

Riko’s arms tighten around him when he tries to pull away, squeezing Neil hard enough to leave bruises. “Found you, Nathaniel,” he hisses in Neil’s ear before releasing him with a faux-friendly clap on the back.

He moves to take the couch on the other side of Kathy’s desk but Neil remains frozen where they’d been standing. He hasn’t heard anyone use his real name in years; the reminder of his father sets a chill in his bones. It isn’t until Andrew tugs roughly on his sleeve that he actually remembers to sit down.

“Isn’t this a treat?” Kathy gushes. “Riko, thank you so much for joining us!”

“Thank you for having me,” Riko replies charmingly and Neil gets the distinct desire to punch his teeth in.

“How does it feel being reunited with your old bandmates?”

Riko laughs, the same affable sound Neil only ever heard when they were surrounded by adults. Riko’s real laugh is cruel and vindictive. “It’s like a blast from the past.”

Kathy nods yet again, hung on his every word. “Now, I’ve already heard from the boys but Riko, tell me. Why did you really part ways?”

Riko affects a disappointed sigh. “Unfortunately, after Kevin tragically broke his hand. It just wasn’t the same anymore.”

Neil sees red. He stopped letting Riko manipulate the game a long time ago. He’s a real player now and he’s going to play by his rules. “I agree,” he pipes up, making all eyes on stage flash to him. “After Riko cut Kevin off when he broke his hand, I just couldn’t stay in the band anymore.”

Kathy’s head whips around to him, her mouth dropped open in surprise, while Riko’s gaze sharpens on him. Andrew squeezes his fingers in warning where their hands are trapped between their thighs.

“What do you mean?” Kathy asks, bewildered.

“Neil took Kevin’s injury very hard,” Riko explains. “He found it difficult to keep up with the band after that.”

“Maybe I didn’t appreciate your method of moving on like Kevin had never existed,” Neil fires back, raising his eyebrows in challenge.

Riko’s fists tighten minutely but Neil notices. He’s been trained to notice Riko’s little movements; it usually made the difference between a cut to something vital and a shallow graze. He’s about to continue when Kathy abruptly cuts him off.

“Boys, I’m afraid we’ve run out of time! We were meant to go to commercial thirty seconds ago,” she says with a forced laugh. “But just let me say an enormous thank you to both The Monsters and Riko for joining us today! It’s been a whirlwind of an interview.”

The lights go down to signal commercial and Neil is up and moving in seconds. He runs past Wymack chewing out the producer and heads straight for the corridor where their dressing rooms are.

He really hadn’t been expecting Riko to be the first one to catch up with him.

In seconds Riko is grabbing the back of his shirt and shoving him against the wall face first. “Looks like someone’s forgotten their manners since we’ve been apart,” he snarls, hands tightening on Neil when he struggles. “Those monsters are truly living up to their name.”

“There’s only one monster here and it sure as fuck isn’t them,” Neil spits, trying and failing to push back against Riko’s weight.

A furious noise rips from the back of Riko’s throat and Neil is bracing himself for a hit when the weight from behind him disappears. He spins around, slamming his back into the wall to find Andrew holding Riko in a chokehold, one of his knives braced against Riko’s throat.

“I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced,” Andrew says, voice far too casual for the intensity in his expression.

Riko struggles for a minute before he realises it’s futile and refocuses on Neil. “Nathaniel, call your mutt off,” he orders but Neil doesn’t hear anything beyond his name.

He gets stuck on the way Andrew briefly pauses  at the sound of the word but the blank surprise is gone before Riko even realises Andrew’s grip might have slackened.

“ _Neil_ ,” Andrew says pointedly. “Get Kevin and go find Wymack.”

A glance towards the direction Andrew had come from shows Kevin staring at Andrew and Riko in horror, hand holding onto the wall for support. Neil looks back at Andrew again and meets his eyes. He knows better than to tell Andrew to let Riko go – he also doesn’t really _want_ to tell Andrew to let Riko go. The darker part of his mind that he usually tries to keep locked up whispers that he wouldn’t mind Andrew slitting Riko’s throat.

In the end he says, “Don’t kill him. This band needs two guitarists,” and pushes off the wall to grab Kevin. He tows him away back towards the stage until he finds Wymack and Abby waiting with Nicky and Aaron. In their absence Katelyn, Erik and Thea have joined them and Kevin crashes straight into Thea’s arms on sight of her.

“Where’s Andrew?” Wymack demands, looking first at where his son is buried in Thea’s arms and then to Neil, who he seems to be scanning for injuries. Neil’s left cheek feels sore from being shoved into the wall and he’s pretty sure he’ll have a nice bruise there in a couple of hours.

“With Riko,” Neil admits with a heavy sigh. He just wants to go home, back on the bus with his family, away from everyone else, driving with no end in sight.

Wymack mutters a curse but refrains from going after him.

“Are you alright Neil?” Abby asks worriedly.

When Neil nods she sighs and steps forward to folds him into her arms. Neil hugs her back and lets himself close his eyes until he feels another hand on his shoulder. He pulls away from Abby to find Nicky waiting beside her with a sad smile. He allows Nicky to envelope him in a hug because he knows it’s what Nicky wants but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel at least a little bit comforted by the touch.

The sound of footsteps behind him makes him straighten again and Nicky releases him without objection. Neil looks over his shoulder to find Andrew walking towards him, looking unscathed. Andrew doesn’t stop until he’s right beside Neil, hand ghosting over the small of Neil’s back in silent reassurance.

“Am I going to be getting a call about murder charges any time soon?” Wymack asks.

“Not just yet,” Andrew responds blithely. “We’re leaving.”

Needing no further prompting, they move as a group towards their dressing rooms to collect their stuff and pile into the cars as quickly as possible.

Andrew takes one look at Neil when they’re seated in the backseat and reaches up to urge Neil’s head to rest on his shoulder. Neil is too exhausted to fight it; he just mumbles a quiet, “thank you,” and closes his eyes, letting Andrew’s fingers carding through his hair lull him back to centre.

* * *

 

Neil doesn’t do anything else for the rest of the day besides sit on his balcony and slowly work through his packet of cigarettes. Andrew joins him at some point, knocking their shoulders together and snatching the cigarette out of Neil’s hand to actually smoke it. Neil offers him a half smile and tips his head back against the railing behind him.

“Thank you,” he mutters eventually, letting his eyes slip closed as he focuses on the scent of the smoke wafting from Andrew’s cigarette.

“For what?”

Neil opens his eyes again and tilts his head to keep Andrew in his line of sight. “For finding me when you did.”

Andrew gives him a sidelong glance, twisting to reach up and ghost a thumb over the now fully formed bruise on his cheekbone. “I told you I wouldn’t let him touch you.”

The barely concealed anger in Andrew’s voice tells him he’s currently beating himself up for letting Neil get hurt but Neil can handle a bruise.

“I’m fine,” he murmurs, catching Andrew’s chin between his thumb and his forefinger to punctuate the statement with a kiss.

Andrew returns his kiss with another before sitting back. He studies Neil for a moment before asking, “Do you want to take a turn?”

Neil frowns in confusion. “Why?”

“I found out something about you today that you didn’t want to tell me,” Andrew explains simply.

Neil’s chest tightens at the reminder of Riko saying his real name. So long. He’s gone so long without hearing it. Today was a rude reminder that his past isn’t as far away as he’s been tricking himself into believing.

Andrew’s hand on his cheek again snaps him out of his reverie and he uses Andrew’s clear gaze to steady himself.

“For what it’s worth,” Andrew tells him. “You don’t look like a Nathaniel.”

Something in Neil cracks a little at that. All his life he’s ran away from any similarities to his father. He’s avoided mirrors whenever he could just in case he saw his father’s face staring back at him. Even his mother used to refer to him as his middle name Abram in the later years when his father’s tyranny became too much for her. Neil himself changed his name as soon as he left behind his old life. All he’s ever wanted is for someone to tell him they’re not the same.

He never thought Andrew Minyard would be the one to do it.

Neil leans forward slowly enough that Andrew can pull away if he wants to and bumps their foreheads together. Neither of them move for a moment and Neil takes the time to pull himself together.

“I do have one question,” he whispers.

“What?”

“Why did you let me stay?”

It’s something that’s bothered Neil from the beginning. Ever since Wymack said it was Andrew’s idea to keep him in the band. He knows the bullshit answers Andrew gave Wymack aren’t the real reasons.

“I knew you wanted to,” Andrew replies after a beat.

“You’re not exactly the charitable kind though. No offence,” Neil adds with a half-laugh.

Andrew flicks his uninjured cheek in retaliation and leans back just enough so he can see Neil clearly. “You were interesting,” he admits eventually.

Neil thinks that might not be the whole of it but he’s willing to accept it for now. “Am I still?”

Andrew shrugs, rolling the dregs of his cigarette between his fingertips. “When I don’t want to kill you.”

“So negative one percent of the time?” Neil grins.

Andrew considers it for a moment while he stubs out the butt and finally settles on, “Negative two percent.”

Neil’s grin widens and for the first time all day he finds he means it.

* * *

 

Retribution comes in the form of a simple text three days later.

Neil is wasting time in his dressing room between soundcheck and dinner when his phone pings on the coffee table. He sets his journal aside and reaches for it unthinkingly but as soon as he lights up the screen he knows who the text his from.

The number is unknown but the contents of the message leave no room for doubt.

It’s one sentence but it’s enough to make Neil feel like the walls are closing in.

 _Enjoy this life while you can, you will not have it for much longer_.

Neil drops his phone without a thought, panic seizing in his chest. He came close to exposing Riko on the Kathy Ferdinand show and now Riko’s planning on destroying him. He should’ve known better. He _does_ know better. But he’ll never be able to bite his tongue when it comes to Riko. No matter how afraid he is, the anger will always outweigh it in the heat of the moment.

He decides not to tell the others since it’s futile. They won’t be able to do anything to stop this and they’ll only worry themselves sick trying.

For now, he decides to ignore it – he has more important things to focus on.

Performing. Tour. The band. His family. Andrew.

They’re what matter.

* * *

 

For a month everything is quiet.

They cover the vast majority of the concerts they have scheduled in the southern states and are two weeks away from landing in LA, right back where they started. Two weeks and the American leg of the tour is over. They have a month to rest up after that before they set off for Europe.

Neil can’t believe he’s already almost a third of a way through his first tour experience.

Four arenas stand between him and the end of the leg; he never thought he’d make it this far.

He hasn’t forgotten Riko’s threat and he hasn’t allowed himself to get complacent but he’s still trying to soak up as much of this experience as he possibly can.

They’re playing in Las Vegas today and tomorrow and Neil can already imagine how much money his bandmates and The Upperclassmen are going to burn through tonight. Neil has always been a decent card player – he’s used it to make a quick couple of dollars on more than one occasion when he’d been travelling – so he figures he might hit up a blackjack table or something but he’s not all that concerned about going out tonight.

Honestly he’s more excited to spend the night with Andrew.  If he had it his way they wouldn’t even be going out, they’d just stay in Neil’s suite all night. The past month has been dedicated to digging their claws a little bit deeper into each other. They’re unravelling each other piece by piece and Neil feels dangerously close to being laid bare. He’s not sure how many secrets he’s still holding close to his chest but there’s a part of him that likes the feeling of having someone else who knows him completely and still wants to stay.

As for Andrew, every new piece of him that Neil uncovers just makes him want to hold onto this all the more tightly.

He’s more sure every day that this is something. Something that _matters_.

They’re debuting a new cover tonight after the last one went down so well. Everything with Riko somewhat overshadowed it but Wymack had come to them a few days later after the dust had settled and told them fans went insane over the new song and asked if they could change it up every few weeks to keep people interested.

Neil thinks tonight’s song might be one of their best yet.

They’re currently camped out in Andrew’s dressing room, going over it one last time before they head to dinner and Neil doesn’t know what possesses him to do it but he’s watching Andrew and the concentration on his face as he picks out the chords and he snaps a picture before he can stop himself. Andrew looks up at the sound of the camera shutter on Neil’s phone and gives Neil an unimpressed look when he tries to affect an innocent expression.

Neil tweets the picture without much thought and watches Andrew freeze when his own phone chimes with a notification a few seconds later. Andrew casts Neil a narrow-eyed look and sets his guitar aside to slide his phone out of his pocket.

Neil holds his breath while Andrew checks the tweet and barely suppresses his grin when he’s met with an eyeroll.

“Stop getting distracted, Abram,” Andrew says. “You’re the one who wanted to do this.”

“You’re not exactly one to do things you don’t want to do,” Neil points out as Andrew reaches for his guitar again.

“Exactly. So don’t test me.”

Neil considers him for a moment as Andrew begins to play, struck once again by how talented he is. It still doesn’t make sense to him that Andrew can be so uncaring about music when his guitar appears like an extension of his arm every time he plays. Combine that with his ear for music and his faultless voice, he’s easily one of the most exceptional talents in the industry. Yet every time Neil’s asked Andrew seems uninterested. Neil can’t believe that though. He can’t believe Andrew doesn’t care. He wouldn’t have made it this far if he didn’t.

“You’re staring problem is becoming a habit, Josten,” Andrew intones without looking up.

“I have a question.”

Andrew sighs, long-suffering. “When do you not?”

“Are you ever gonna let me see your song lyrics?”

 _That_ makes Andrew pause. His hands still on the strings and he slowly raises his head to look at Neil, an indiscernible expression on his face.

He doesn’t speak at first but Neil is willing to wait him out. Eventually Andrew says, “Stick around long enough to show up at the writing sessions for the next album and we’ll see.”

With that, he goes back to playing and ignoring Neil.

Neil will take that answer for now though.

* * *

 

Neil will never get over the moment just before he and Andrew perform their cover together. How, no matter what city or state they’re in, the whole crowd seems to collectively hold their breath while they wait for the first note to echo across the arena. How the screams of excitement bounce off the walls of the arena every time they recognise the song. It’s only ever a millisecond but it always makes Neil break out in a full-body shiver.

[Tonight](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eRXO77hJGKA), Neil is singing the first verse and he has to physically force himself not to stare at Andrew as he begins to sing.

 _“I found God,_  
I found him in a lover,  
When his hair falls in his face,  
And his hands so cold they shake…”

He finds his lips quirking up involuntarily at the words. They’re not his lyrics but he thinks they describe his feelings for Andrew in that simple yet profound way Neil has taken to seeing him. Andrew is ethereal to him in all the things that make him human. In the way he pulls his sleeves down over his hands when he gets cold up on the roof. In the way he always gets two faint purple rings under his eyes the morning after they’ve stayed up most of the night. In the way he sighs every time Neil devotes minutes to kissing his lips numb. Those are the parts of Andrew that make him seem unreal.

Neil likes this song because he likes the contradiction of it. It fits them, he thinks. They’re a contradiction in and of themselves. They could be – and probably should be – toxic together but somehow, the parts of them that should make them vitriolic are the parts of them that make it easy to fit together. They share the bad parts of their personalities and it somehow makes them calmer together, more settled.

Andrew’s voice harmonises with his for the chorus and Neil feels a grin starting to form at the now familiar shriek of the crowd. Since the very first concert, the reaction to his and Andrew’s voices together has always been insane.

 _“I've got a lover,_  
And I’m unforgiven,  
I'm such a fool to pay this price,  
It's coming down, down, coming down…”

Neil can feel Andrew’s weighty gaze on his as he sings, “ _I found a martyr_ …” and he tries in vain to hide his smile. Andrew has called him a martyr every single time Neil has tried to come up with a way to deal with Riko that would keep the rest of the band out of it. He’s popped Neil on the back of the head on more than one occasion and told him to shut up before pointedly reminding him that Andrew promised to protect him.

_“Now we're lost somewhere in outer space  
In a hotel room where demons play…”_

He thinks there’s something to be said for the songs Andrew agrees to sing with him – or even the parts of those songs Andrew chooses to sing. Andrew buries his emotions so deep inside his chest, to the untrained eye it seems as though they’re not there at all. Neil knows better and he thinks Andrew’s lack of protest when it comes to singing songs like this says more than spoken words could. Because even if he sings uncaringly, even if he keeps his face expressionless, Neil knows the very fact that he’s willing to sing these words with him at all is the closest thing to a confession Neil could ever hope to get.

And he doesn’t mind. Because even if Andrew has fooled himself into believing he doesn’t care, like Neil said, he knows better.

They finish out the song with their usual game of trying to sneak a look at one another when the other isn’t looking and Neil feels like he’s been electrocuted in the brief instance where their eyes lock.

Neil will admit he loves looking at Andrew. He stares at him like he can uncover all the secrets of the universe just by studying Andrew’s face. But the truth is there’s nothing quite like looking at Andrew on stage. Surrounded by bright lights and a roaring crowd, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and his pale skin luminescent – he’s mesmerising.

They don’t manage to look away from one another as they sing the final, “ _He's coming down, down, coming down,”_ but Neil doesn’t really want to anyway. As the song ends there’s a single beat of silence – much like just before they began – where the room feels completely still and then the screams from the audience build so much Neil feels like his eardrums are about to burst.

He gets stuck in the moment while he takes it all in and it isn’t until the others come running back out onto the stage and Nicky yells a dramatic, “Damn you know how to make a guy emotional!” into his mic to rouse the crowd again that Neil actually snaps out of it.

He has just enough time to make it to his mark before Aaron starts the opening beat of Room 317.

* * *

 

They arrive back at the hotel about half an hour after the show and Neil is intending to follow everyone else into the casino for what will no doubt be a night of poor decision-making but Andrew snags a hand in his sleeve and pulls him back. Neil stalls, watching the door fall closed behind Kevin and looking back at Andrew. He merely meets Neil’s gaze evenly for a beat before beginning to tow him towards the elevator. Recognising the intensity in Andrew’s gaze, Neil stumbles dumbly along and allows himself to be lead away from the group.

They don’t talk on the journey up to their floor but the tension between them is palpable. Neil feels like he might suffocate from it if they stay in the elevator any longer.

“Don’t feel like socialising tonight?” he asks, falling into step beside Andrew as they continue down the hallway towards his suite.

Andrew throws him a look over his shoulder when they come to a stop that very blatantly says “When do I ever feel like socialising?” before slipping his keycard into the slot and pushing open the door of his suite.

The insides of hotel rooms have begun to blur together for Neil. Every one looks pretty much the same just with different art on the walls. He still can’t help but be vaguely impressed by the lavish way the room is decorated but the only thing in here that really holds his attention is Andrew. Andrew wanders over to the desk and picks up the bottle of whiskey Wymack had no doubt delivered to his room as payment for actually cooperating and doing his job. He examines the label for a moment before reaching for two glasses.

Neil doesn’t bother watching him pour, instead kicking off his shoes and padding over to the balcony door to unlock it. He drops down into one of the lounge chairs, curling his legs up underneath him and fishing his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket. He shakes two out of the packet and lights them both, trading one for a glass when Andrew joins him.

Andrew takes the chair next to him and they sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes while they drink. Neil looks out over the sparkling skyline and swirls his drink around in his glass. He feels like he’s having one of those surreal out-of-body experiences where he’s suddenly realising that this is his life. He’s sitting on the balcony of a five star hotel with a boy he’s completely and utterly captivated by after just playing a sold out arena show in Las Vegas. If you’d told him a year ago this is where he would be now he would have laughed at the sheer thought.

“You’re thinking loudly,” Andrew complains beside him, making Neil startle.

He casts Andrew a sidelong glance, smirking at the expectant look on his face. “If you want to know what’s on my mind just ask.”

“I don’t care what you’re thinking about,” Andrew tells him, setting his empty glass down upside down on the little table between them.

“Then why’d you say it?” Neil challenges, watching smugly as Andrew’s mouth forms a thin line. Andrew doesn’t speak or make observations unless he wants to or expects an answer. He has to be a fool to think Neil doesn’t know that by now. “For the record, I’m just thinking about how this is never where I expected to end up.”

“Vegas?” Andrew prompts, being purposefully obtuse for no other reason than to be annoying.

“All of it,” Neil replies. “I don’t think I ever realised how tired I was of running until I actually got to stop.”

“You’re still moving to a new city every couple of days,” Andrew points out.

Neil shakes his head. “It’s a different kind of running. Home is still always there.”

“Where’s home when you’re living in and out of hotel rooms?”

Neil meets his gaze and he knows staring for too long gives him away but he can’t make himself look away. “I’m working on it,” he answers eventually, a distant memory of Andrew telling him those exact words tugging at the back his brain.

Andrew stares him down with a loaded look before taking a harsh inhale of his cigarette and jerking his head at Neil’s glass. “Finish your whiskey.”

Neil downs the last dregs of it and sets the glass down, standing up when Andrew does and following him into the room.

They’re only just through the door when Andrew is fisting a hand in the front of Neil’s t-shirt and pulling him in for a bruising kiss. Neil sighs against his mouth, feeling the tension that’s been building in the pit of his stomach all day finally burst. He threads his fingers through Andrew’s hair and stumbles forward when Andrew takes a step back towards the bed. They almost trip over one another’s feet multiple times in the short trip from the balcony door to the bed but neither of them are willing to pull away from each other long enough to watch where they’re going.

Just as the back of Andrew’s knees are about to hit the bed he spins them around. Neil drops down onto the mattress willingly, only making a noise of protest when Andrew doesn’t follow him down.  Instead his hands fall away from Neil’s shirt and he takes a step back.

When Neil makes a questioning noise he simply says, “Lie down,” and turns away. Neil hurries to comply, using his hands to shuffle back until he’s lying against the pillows. Andrew steps out of his shoes while Neil gets comfortable and goes rummaging through the pockets of his jacket he’d left thrown over the desk chair. The last thing Neil expects him to turn around with is a Magic 8 ball.

Andrew throws it to him without a word and Neil catches it on instinct.

Looking down at it in confusion, Neil raises his head to stare at Andrew again. “Where the hell did you get this?”

“Someone threw it on stage tonight,” Andrew shrugs, moving across the room to his bag next.

“What do you expect me to do with it?”

Andrew stands back up straight and spins to face him. “Tell me if you’re going to be staying the night.”

Neil is about to answer immediately in the affirmative before he catches what Andrew means. He’s not sure if this is supposed to be some weird trust exercise or what but he still shakes the ball and waits for the words to appear.

When he doesn’t say anything Andrew prompts him. “What does it say?”

Neil stares at the word in the tiny window then up at Andrew and feels his mouth lift in a smile. “It says yes.”

[Andrew nods](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4iljAm1hoLU) once and pulls his t-shirt over his head.

Neil’s mouth goes dry at the sight, Magic 8 ball forgotten about as he drops it off to the side. Andrew stalks towards the bed, stopping at the end and pinning Neil with a dark look. “You next.”

Neil shucks his t-shirt off in seconds, discarding it on the floor and watching Andrew climb onto the bed with rapt attention. What starts off as slow changes pace almost instantly as soon as Andrew’s reaching out to run his fingers up Neil’s torso. Neil shudders at the touch, hooking a hand around the back of Andrew’s neck and surging up to crush their mouths together. Andrew falls against him, fingers biting into the skin of Neil’s chest where he’s holding onto him.

They kiss until Neil’s lips are numb and tingling and then they kiss some more. Neil is certain no matter how far they go he’ll never get tired of kissing Andrew. He’ll never get tired of the all-consuming fire that burns through him whenever Andrew’s mouth is on his. It’s the closest to intoxicated he’s probably ever felt in his entire life.

For so long, Neil had never considered his own pleasure that now every sigh or moan Andrew can draw out of him leaves him wholly overwhelmed. He wants to return the favour. He knows that, even if it’s for different reasons, Andrew denies himself just as much as Neil has been accustomed to doing. And Neil feels like he’s grown so much in the past couple of months exploring with Andrew, he feels like he’s learned so much about himself and what he likes and what he doesn’t, he just wants to give Andrew that same feeling. He wants to help replace all the bad memories and bad feelings with good ones. He knows it’ll take time. He knows he’ll have to treat Andrew’s body as delicately as he would a minefield but maybe he can try. Maybe he can start learning how to make Andrew feel good.

He turns his face to the side to detach their lips, mouthing over Andrew’s cheekbone before murmuring, “Do you trust me?”

Andrew pauses, pushing Neil back down into the pillows and sitting up where he’s straddling Neil’s hips. He stares down at Neil with his brow furrowed, expression cagey. “Why?”

Neil swallows around the lump in his throat and picks at the comforter beneath his hands. “It’s okay if you say no,” he begins. “But I want to touch your chest. If you’ll let me.”

Andrew is silent while he thinks, jaw working slightly. “How?” he asks eventually.

“Like when I let you touch my scars,” Neil answers quietly. He’d hated letting Andrew see them but the careful and tender way Andrew had kissed them and run his fingers over them had been something he needed. He’d needed someone to take the parts of himself that he hates the most and treat them gently.

In lieu of replying, Andrew climbs off Neil and moves to lie on his back beside him. Neil sits up and meets his even gaze – the heat behind Andrew’s still hasn’t ebbed, he’s relieved to see. “I need a yes.”

Andrew’s gaze shifts from Neil’s face to his hands but then he nods. “It’s a yes.”

Neil feels the realisation of what an enormous step this is hit him all at once. It seems like longer because they’ve spent so much time in close proximity but it’s really only been just over two months since they started whatever it is they are. He knows part of the reason they’ve moved somewhat faster is because they’ve been living in each other’s pockets since the beginning of tour rehearsals four and a half months ago but he still never believed Andrew could trust him this much at this point.

He moves to lie between Andrew’s legs, leaning up on his hands and hovering over him so as not to put any weight on Andrew. Neil waits a few breaths to let Andrew get used to the feeling before ducking down and brushing their lips together.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispers, ghosting his lips over Andrew’s once more before moving to his neck.

“I know,” Andrew breathes, one hand clenching in Neil’s hair as he kisses a path down his throat.

He worries a patch of skin between his teeth, listening out for the soft sounds Andrew makes or the little shifts in his breathing. He bites and sucks at the spot until the faintest mark is beginning to form and the tension in Andrew’s body finally uncoils. With a heavy exhale, Andrew goes pliant beneath him, grip in Neil’s hair slackening somewhat.

Neil takes that as his cue to move on and migrates to Andrew’s collarbones. He mouths along them until he reaches Andrew’s shoulder and presses a firm kiss right over the light smattering of freckles there – so light he can only see them when he’s this close. Andrew shudders beneath him and Neil presses his smile into Andrew’s skin, nipping at the skin beneath his mouth when Andrew’s hold in his hair tightens in warning.

Neil keeps moving then, kissing a line down between Andrew’s pecs and detouring briefly to drop a feather-light kiss over his heart.

“So what’s my percentage at now?” he asks conversationally, leaning down on his elbow to thread his fingers through Andrew’s free hand.

He dips down to kiss Andrew’s stomach, sucking at the spot right above Andrew’s bellybutton. Andrew releases a sharp breath above him and squeezes his hand. “117%,” he huffs, sounding winded.

Neil grins again; Andrew must feel it because his knee nudges Neil’s side to hurry him up. He spends a few minutes exploring the planes of Andrew’s torso, mapping it out with his teeth and tongue. But by some unspoken rule he never delves past Andrew’s bellybutton. Any further is too close to something Andrew definitely isn’t comfortable with yet even if he hasn’t explicitly said so. He knows Andrew is hard though and it’s getting difficult to ignore the tightness in his own jeans. As if reading his mind, Andrew’s hand slips out of his hair to reach for his shoulder and urge him up. Neil leans up until his face is hovering over Andrew’s once again and they lock eyes.

Andrew’s pupils are dilated and Neil is positive it has nothing to do with the alcohol or the dim lighting. They stare at each other for the length of a heartbeat and then Andrew’s flipping them over, caging Neil beneath him and crushing their mouths together in an earth-shattering kiss.

Neil surrenders himself to it completely, letting himself get lost in the feeling until Andrew begins to shift. He manages to unbutton and unzip Neil’s jeans without tearing his mouth away from Neil’s but as he begins shoving them – along with his briefs – down Neil’s thighs, he has to move away.

His mouth leaves a trail of fire down Neil’s chest and before Neil realises what he’s planning to do, Andrew’s mouth is swallowing around his cock. Neil stops breathing with a choked gasp. One of his hands flies to Andrew’s hair while the other clenches in the pillow under his head and he squeezes his eyes shut tight.

Andrew hums around him, driving Neil close to the edge and making him arch off the bed. One of Andrew’s arms snakes out then to keep his hips pressed to the mattress and Neil pants out another harsh breath that transforms into a moan the moment Andrew bobs his head and takes him deeper.

“Andrew,” he mumbles incoherently, fingers combing through Andrew’s hair and clenching every time Andrew flicks his tongue just the right way. It’s the most dizzying feeling Neil has ever experienced. He feels like he’s floating in some other plane of existence where the only thing surrounding him is the wet heat of Andrew’s mouth.

He’s already worked up from earlier - from getting the chance to actually make Andrew feel the way he makes Neil feel – he’s not sure how much longer he can last. Andrew is relentless, mouth working over him until Neil is so far gone all he can do is helplessly stutter out Andrew’s name.

He comes with a choked off moan, sinking back against the mattress and blinking his eyes open dazedly. He barely has his breath back when Andrew is surging back up to kiss him. Neil kisses back out of instinct, making a startled noise when he realises the hand Andrew had braced across his hips is now buried inside his own jeans. Neil wants to pull away and look but he doesn’t. Instead he kisses the breath from Andrew, tangling their tongues together and coaxing every sound he possibly can from him to help push him over the edge.

Andrew’s mouth goes slack against his when he comes, forehead leaning heavily against Neil’s. Andrew rolls off him after a moment, one leg still thrown haphazardly over Neil’s. Neil rolls his head to the left to watch him – Andrew is lying on his side, still close to Neil but not really touching except for his legs. The part that Neil probably revels in the most though is the relaxed expression on Andrew’s face. Andrew has never stayed in the room with him to get off before; the fact that he appears this calm afterwards makes something swell in Neil’s chest.

“We should shower,” Andrew says after a few minutes.

“Okay,” Neil nods, watching Andrew heave himself off the bed. He expects to wait here for a few minutes while Andrew goes first. What he doesn’t expect is for Andrew to turn around and offer his hand. Neil sits up and takes it precariously, letting Andrew haul him out of bed.

The bathroom door closing behind them feels like the start of something else entirely.

Neil doesn’t know what, exactly, but he knows he wants it.

* * *

 

It’s a few hours later and Neil is still wide awake.

Andrew is asleep besides him, curled up on his side with his arms held close to his chest. He looks so different when he’s sleeping, face calm and relaxed and not at all closed off. Neil makes a secret promise to himself to try and make Andrew’s face look like that more often.

His mind is still reeling from earlier tonight. Every single time a barrier breaks between them he feels a little more done for. It’s becoming clearer and clearer as the days and weeks pass that he’s not going to be able to turn his back on Andrew. No matter what Riko does, no matter what happens in the future, imagining saying goodbye to Andrew and whatever this is is incomprehensible.

His fingers are itching to write, to spill every mismatched, disjointed thought in his head onto a page. For so long he’s been hearing music in his head every single time he’s looked at Andrew, he finally thinks he might know how to bring it to life.

With one last glance at Andrew he eases out of bed, padding over to where Andrew’s guitar is propped up against the wall. He grabs the hotel stationary sitting on the dressing table and a pencil and sets up camp on the floor. For once he doesn’t think about _how_ he wants to write, he just does. He hadn’t realised he already had a melody in his head until he had the guitar in his hands and he started playing but he strums out a fully formed tune as soon as his fingers touch the strings.

It’s not long before words flow out of him like a burst dam. He’s pausing in playing every few seconds to hastily scribble down lyrics, picking up where he left off as soon as he drops his pencil.

He doesn’t realise Andrew is awake until he feels hands sliding over his shoulders and teeth biting lightly at the hinge of his jaw. Neil pauses, leaning into him when Andrew rests his temple against his.

“What are you doing?” he asks tiredly, hooking his chin over Neil’s shoulder to see the piece of paper.

“Inspiration struck,” Neil shrugs.

Andrew grumbles an unintelligible noise. “Couldn’t inspiration have struck at a more reasonable time?”

Huffing a laugh, Neil sets the guitar aside. “I’ll come back to bed,” he offers.

He’s expecting Andrew to drag him back up to his feet; instead Andrew reaches for the pencil and picks up Neil’s sheet of paper. He scans the page for a minute before bracing the piece of paper against the back of Neil’s shoulder and starting to write. Neil can feel him crossing something out and writing in another line and he has to bite his lip to stop himself from asking what Andrew’s doing.

Andrew sets the piece of paper down again when he’s finished and Neil leans over the guitar to read it. The first line of Neil’s would-be chorus is still the same but Andrew has crossed out the half-finished second line and written in his own.

_“Too good to be good for me,  
~~Too bad that I want~~ Too bad that that's all I need”_

Neil stares at the words a moment until it finally sinks in that Andrew’s writing. Andrew just wrote a lyric and let him see it. All he’s ever wanted is to get a peek inside Andrew’s mind through his lyrics and now Andrew’s actually offering him the chance, even if it’s unspoken.

He turns his body and cranes his neck to meet Andrew’s eyes. “Finish the song with me?”

Andrew appraises him for a beat too long before picking up the lyric sheet again. “Play the melody again,” he requests.

Neil does, singing his half-finished lyrics as he makes his way through the song. Andrew joins in here and there, mostly testing out the sound of the lyrics to see whether or not they work. They build on one another’s lines, stealing the pencil from each other every few seconds to change a word or add a lyric.

By the time the sun is rising Neil has a complete song written on hotel stationary and kiss-bitten lips courtesy of Andrew Minyard.

* * *

 

Three months. Thirty-five cities. Sixty concerts. And it all comes down to this.

It’s the final concert of the American leg of their tour. After this they’ll have a month off before setting off for Europe but none of that matters right now. They’re two minutes away from going on stage for the last time for a month. Neil feels nerves tingling through his whole body as he gets fitted with his in-ears backstage, bouncing on his heels in a nervous habit and no doubt annoying the crewmember trying to help him.

Once each of them are ready they move into their huddle. The job of their pre-show pep talk usually falls to Nicky since he’s the best at rousing, inspirational speeches but when they all bunch together he looks at Neil.

“Alright Rookie, it’s the last concert of your first tour leg. Bring us home.”

Neil freezes up momentarily, eyes darting from Nicky’s encouraging smile, Aaron’s expectant face and Kevin’s impatient look. Andrew is the only one that looks unmoved, the calm in the middle of the storm. It’s what Neil needs to centre himself and he looks back at each of their faces with renewed determination.

“We can fucking _do_ this,” he says with conviction. “We’ve killed every single show so far and we’re not about to stop now. Fuck Riko and the media and whoever the hell else has been trying to take this away from us. What happens on stage is _ours._ Let’s remind everyone of that one last time.”

“Hell yeah!” Nicky exclaims in enthusiastic agreement, jolting Neil back into reality. Kevin gives him a look of approval and even Aaron looks slightly more hyped up than normal. Andrew simply nods at him when Neil looks his way and Neil knows he’s got his back. He knows Andrew will try and that’s all he can ask for.

“On three,” Kevin prompts, putting his hand in the centre of their huddle. They pile their hands on top of his and Aaron counts them down. As soon as they break away they ready their positions in the wings to go out on stage and before Neil knows it there’s only ten seconds ‘til lights up.

The last thing he sees on stage before the lights flash to life and blind him is Andrew’s wicked grin.

Neil spends the entire concert in an out-of-body experience. He has no idea what he’s doing but he knows he’s playing and he knows they’re on fire. He’s swept up in the cheers of the crowd that seem even more amplified tonight, the vibrations from their instruments rattle his bones and every harmony or back-and-forth exchange of lyrics sends him hurtling into a state of euphoria.

He’s never felt alive like this. He spent four years of his life drifting, of running from his past, of not knowing what he was supposed to do and in the past eleven months he finally started to feel real again.

But he knows. Tonight. This is the moment where it’s all finally changed. Where he’s finally shaken off all his ghosts and all his fears.

This is what he’s been waiting for.

The Upperclassmen join them on stage for the encore and they sing [Wild Things](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g5vUBQBykJ4), a song the three girls had written about their time at Palmetto State and their ragtag group of loners and troublemakers. Neil might not have been there with them at the time but he finds the lyrics just as applicable to all of them now as it must’ve been for them back then.

They miss their final bow since everyone is too busy jumping on each other and hugging. In the chaos of the stage and the noise of the crowd Neil finds Andrew’s gaze. It’s only for a second but it’s a single moment of silence that somehow sets Neil’s heart beating faster than anything else has tonight.

There’s a special kind of exhilaration that comes with standing on top of the world with the person who’d be just as willing to stand with you at the bottom.

* * *

 

In the madness of backstage Neil manages exactly ninety seconds to drag Andrew into his dressing room and kiss him until all the breath leaves lungs before Nicky is pounding on his door and telling him to hurry up so they can get to the after party.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Andrew says conversationally between kisses. “You’re not the one with a death wish; my cousin is.”

Neil laughs, sighing as he steps away from Andrew. “He’s right though. We should get changed.”

Andrew levels him with an unimpressed look. “You’re the one who dragged me in here, Josten. Make up your mind.”

It’s too tempting. Neil leans in again for another lingering kiss before forcibly stepping out of Andrew’s space. “Go,” he insists, holding open the door for Andrew. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

Andrew hesitates in the doorway, cupping his palm over the pulse on Neil’s neck. “Remember this feeling. This is the night you stopped being a rabbit.”

“I haven’t been a rabbit for a while,” Neil replies. He knows what Andrew’s getting at, reminding him that he’s made it, that he can put performing before his fear of Riko. But Neil decided a long time ago he wouldn’t let anyone by the name of Moriyama stop him.

Andrew hums in acknowledgement, appraising him with lazy eyes. “A fox, maybe.”

“Cunning?”

“Good at evasion,” Andrew elaborates, dropping his hand and stepping through the threshold. He disappears into his own dressing room only moments later.

Neil quirks his lips in amusement – he’s not the only one good at evasion – and closes his door to get changed.

* * *

 

An entire club has been rented out to celebrate the end of the American leg of the tour. As far as Neil knows, tons of other celebrities and people from the press are meant to be there but he honestly just wants to spend the night with his friends. He knows he’ll have to take a few photos but Wymack promised them they could relax and enjoy the party after the first hour.

They’ve been there for about an hour and a half when Neil is finally able to drop the fake-polite smile and relax after being given the go-ahead from Abby. He’d seen Andrew talking to Bee earlier but they’re not at the balcony railing when Neil goes looking. He’s wandering around, on the lookout for the familiar faces of The Monsters or The Upperclassmen but the club is too crowded. He doesn’t recognise any of the faces around him and it takes a second to remind himself not to panic.

Even now, he’s not good with crowds unless there’s a stage between them.

He pats down the pocket of his jeans and remembers his phone. He can call someone, he’s not alone, his friends are nearby. He just needs to find them.

He’s just reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone when a hand on his shoulder makes him pause. He turns slowly, stomach dropping when he recognises the person in front of him.

“Hello, Nathaniel,” Riko says. Neil can barely hear him over the noise of the club but he’d recognise the self-satisfied smile anywhere.

Neil swallows back his retort and tries to take a subtle step back. Riko notices, smile tightening slightly as he takes another step forward, refusing to let Neil widen the gap between them.

“Jean,” Riko says when Neil doesn’t reply. Neil’s head snaps to the left and locates his former bandmate’s stony expression. “Say hello to Nathaniel. It’s been so long since you two talked.”

In a bold move that Neil doesn’t expect, Jean speaks to him in French. “You should run while you still have the use of your legs.”

“I ran once,” Neil replies in the same language. “I’m not running again.”

Jean shakes his head while Riko’s eyebrows pinch together. He always used to punish them for speaking French since he could never understand it.

“It’s rude to have private conversations with others present,” he says pointedly, turning his face slightly to address Jean. “Jean, why don’t you go find Kevin? It has been years since the four of us caught up. I think we’re due a reunion.”

Jean gives him a meaningful look before melting into the crowd. Neil suddenly feels his adrenaline kick in now that they’re alone. He’d told Andrew once that crowds were an easy way for someone to make him disappear; he never really thought this would be the way it would happen though.

“Is that why you’re here?” Neil demands, forcing himself not to break eye contact when he speaks.

“But of course!” Riko answers unassumingly. “I’ve missed you Nathaniel and I just wanted to congratulate you and Kevin on all your success.” He pulls Neil into a hug that happens too quickly for him to dodge. Within seconds he feels the tip of a blade pressing against his abdomen through the thin material of his shirt.

He stops breathing.

Riko’s voice is hot in his ear and making his skin crawl. “I’ve got men shadowing each of your friends. Try anything and I will slit your little monster’s throat.”

He pulls away with his calm expression perfectly in place and Neil feels terror seize in his chest. He doesn’t know where Andrew is but he knows better than to call Riko’s bluff. He doesn’t have a choice, he has to do what Riko says – if only to buy Andrew a little more time.

“Let’s go somewhere a little quieter, shall we?” The flash of metal in the dark lights of the club gets Neil moving.

He leads them towards the wall where he knows one of the doors leads to a corridor. Riko is an unwelcome presence at his back every step of the way. He thinks about his phone in his pocket but there’s no way he can get it out and get a warning to Andrew without Riko noticing. His heart is thumping painfully in his chest and Neil is struggling to hold onto the last shred of his composure. He doesn’t believe for one second that Riko will leave the others alone if Neil does what he says but he has to try. He’s out of options.

As soon as they step through the door to the corridor Riko grabs him roughly, dragging him into what looks like and empty storeroom. Neil is suddenly all too aware of the silence now that they’re away from the music in the club. Riko has his arm twisted behind his back but Neil still tries to wrench himself free as soon as he hears the door slam behind them. He gets the slice of a blade across his shoulder for his efforts and pain immediately lances through him, causing him to stumble. Riko uses the moment to his advantage, kicking Neil’s legs out from under him and forcing him to his knees. One of Riko’s hands fists in Neil’s hair to pull his head back while he holds the knife taut against Neil’s neck with the other.

“You think you can defy Moriyama? Defy _me?!”_ he demands with a furious edge to his voice. “You were always a spoiled child who never appreciated the gifts he’d been offered. You had the opportunity to stand at my side and be part of one of the most formidable bands in the world and you _refused-“_

His fist tightens in Neil’s hair, making Neil’s eyes water. The blade is dangerously close to his throat. He can almost feel it if he swallows too hard. “I had the opportunity to be your pet and a glorified punching bag for the rest of my life,” he snaps back, all too aware of the proximity of the knife. “Excuse me for saying no.”

Riko slashes the knife downward in a lightning quick gesture and by the time Neil feels blood bloom from the gash across his chest it’s already returned to its spot braced against his neck. “You always did have a mouth on you,” Riko says in disgust. “I can’t wait to rip your vocal cords from your throat so I never have to hear it again.”

“Go ahead,” Neil taunts, throat so dry he can barely form the words. “I’ll still be a better singer than you.”

Riko’s anger gets the better of him and he shoves Neil, sending him sprawling onto his stomach. He rolls over just in time to see Riko looming over him, knife poised at the ready. “Oh Nathaniel,” he says as a slow smile creeps onto his face. “I’m going to enjoy destroying you.”

The last thing Neil sees before closing his eyes and bracing himself is the knife slashing through the air, plunging towards him.

Game over.

* * *

 

As Neil slowly regains consciousness the first thing he becomes aware of is a faint beeping somewhere to his left. He frowns at the intrusive noise as it slowly gets louder inside his head. He’s brain feels fuzzy and every time he tries to tell himself to open his eyes they don’t comply. After what feels like an eternity he manages to crack his lids open only to immediately shut them again against the harsh white light of what he assumes is a ceiling.

He’s careful to open them more slowly the second time around and his vision adjusts after a moment so that the light isn’t quite so blinding.

The next thing he becomes aware of his pain. Dulled by what he’s guessing is medication but still thrumming under the surface throughout most of his body. He knows he blacked out somewhere between Riko reopening the old scars on his stomach and his failed attempt at fighting back. Riko had always been faster in a fight. Neil was a defensive fighter, more concerned with surviving than winning. He’s never stood a chance against Riko.

Neil takes a moment to take stock of himself. He slowly wiggles his fingers on both hands and finds them still to be in working condition though stinging from the few punches he managed to land when trying to push Riko off. He moves his legs under the blanket next and is relieved to find them also still intact. He relaxes a little when he realises that he’s still whole, if not a little worse for wear.

It’s clear by now that he’s in a hospital bed and the beeping is coming from a machine monitoring his vitals. When he feels strong enough he decides to inspect what he can see of the room. Turning his head to the left confirms his suspicions and reveals a number of monitors that he’s hooked up to as well as an IV drip. There’s a door in the far wall that he thinks probably leads to a bathroom. Turning his head to the right reveals a sleeping Andrew Minyard, curled up in an uncomfortable hospital chair. There’s no one else in the room but the coffee cups on his tray table and the jacket thrown over the other empty chair says the others probably aren’t far.

It takes him three tries to finally be able to speak and when he does the word comes out cracked and barely audible. “Andrew.”

Andrew still hears him though. His eyes flash open and his head snaps up, sharp gaze darting around the room for sign of a threat before his eyes land on Neil. His expression is inscrutable as he takes Neil in but eventually he gets up from his chair and crouches down by the head of the bed. One of his hands slides into Neil’s hair, carefully brushing it back off his forehead. “You’re a fucking martyr,” he mutters lowly.

“I know,” Neil croaks. “You told me in a song.”

Andrew makes a frustrated noise and huffs an, “I hate you,” before ducking down to kiss him.

Neil kisses back as much as he can but he doesn’t think Andrew’s looking for finesse right now, he’s looking for reassurance. He leans back after a few seconds, gaze searching Neil’s face.

It takes a moment for Neil to realise Andrew is trying to see if he’s in pain. “I’m fine,” he promises.

Andrew’s expression shutters and he stands up straight from his crouch. “Say those words one more time and I’ll knock you out myself, Abram. You are not fine.”

He turns away but it’s only to get a cup of water from the bedside table. He puts the straw to Neil’s mouth when he raises his head and keeps his free hand on the back of Neil’s neck to hold him up. Neil takes a grateful gulp, slowing down when Andrew glares at him and grits out, “ _Sips_.”

Andrew moves the cup away when Neil is finished, setting it on the bedside table and dropping back into his previously vacated chair.

“So what’s the damage?” Neil asks once the silence settles between them. Too much of his body is aching to be able to tell what’s actually a wound and what isn’t.

“Riko shredded your chest and stomach,” Andrew tells him matter-of-factly. “None of the cuts landed deep enough to hit anything vital though. It’s been about sixteen hours since we found you.”

“How _did_ you find me?” Last Neil heard, Riko had his men shadowing each of The Monsters and The Upperclassmen.

Andrew’s expression sours and his knuckles turn white where he’s gripping the arms of his chair. “Looks like Riko’s henchmen never bothered to learn French,” he says with disdain. “Jean managed to tell Kevin what Riko had planned and Kevin got a message to me. It wasn’t hard to slip the leash; Riko’s thugs are stupider than he is.”

“And Riko?” Neil asks, swallowing down the dryness in his throat.

“Dead,” Andrew replies flatly.

Neil startles at that, the beeping on his heart rate monitor increasing excessively. Andrew darts forward to grip his chin and forces their eyes to lock. “Calm down,” he instructs. “You’re going to send the nurses running and then you’ll have to wait for your explanation.”

Neil nods, forcing himself to take a deep breath. He uses Andrew to ground him, lifting a hand to curl around the back of Andrew’s neck and pull him closer. His grip is too weak to really hold any force behind it but Andrew moves anyway, letting their foreheads tip together. “Breathe, Neil,” he whispers, finally leaning away when Neil’s breathing is back to normal.

“What happened?” he asks, voice ragged.

“Wymack had requested security cameras in every room in the building – he knew Riko was circling, he knew him showing up was a possibility. The whole thing was caught on video, everything he did to you.” Neil doesn’t miss the quiet fury in Andrew’s voice as he speaks but he continues before Neil can comment on it.

“TMZ got hold of the video within hours; combine that with the fact that we caught him in the act, there’s no one whose silence they could buy. The world knew it was Riko. The official story is he killed himself in police custody. But Jean called Kevin this morning and made it clear that wasn’t what happened.” Andrew pauses and Neil spares a thought for his old friend. There’s no telling how Jean might have been punished for his involvement. “Riko had become too much of a liability and so he was disposed of.”

Neil is frozen with shock, expression blank as he tries to make the words sink in. Riko is dead. He’s gone and he’s never coming back. Neil is free.

 _He’s free_.

That doesn’t mean they all are though. “And Jean?” he asks worriedly.

“His contract has been dissolved. Kengo and Tetsuji are cleaning house. He’s been threatened within an inch of his life if he dares breathe a word of what life with Riko was like but according to Kevin he’s fine.” Andrew shrugs, index finger idly running over the bandages covering Neil’s forearm. “Apparently Jeremy’s recruited him.”

Neil’s brows furrow in confusion. “Our vocal coach?”

Andrew hums in agreement. “They’ve met at some industry parties before. Kevin said Jean’s interested in all the behind-the-scenes work now?”

“He liked to write,” Neil remembers. He’d been good at it too.

Andrew shrugs again, cradling Neil’s split-knuckled hand in both of his and inspecting it carefully. Neil lets him, comfortable silence settling around them. He’s too tired to say anymore. He’s alive. He’s fine. They’re all fine.

Their reprieve ends when Nicky gasps a startled, “Neil?!” from the doorway and promptly almost drops the coffee he’d been carrying before hastily throwing it down on the tray table and rushing to the bedside.

Nicky’s arrival sets off a chain reaction and by the time the doctors are finished checking him over, there’s a line of worried Monsters and Upperclassmen waiting to see him.

“You gave us a pretty big scare, kid,” Dan says, sighing in relief as she leans down to hug him. She’s gentle because she has to be but Neil still feels the ferocity in her embrace, a protector through and through.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as she releases him, earning a scolding look from more than one of his friends.

“No apologies,” Renee insists, briefly sitting on the edge of his bed to take his hand.

Allison rolls her eyes and steps up to drag him into a hug next. “Yeah, I swear, Josten, I’ll kill you myself if you try to apologise for this.”

“Noted,” Neil laughs half-heartedly.

Matt and Nicky’s bear hugs threaten to crack his ribs but he shakes his head at Andrew when he looks ready to throw them off. Aaron only sighs when faced with him, huffing a resigned, “I knew you’d be trouble, Josten,” and patting his shoulder in a blink-and-you-miss-it gesture of reassurance.

Kevin is the last to come up to him and when he does he speaks in French. “Did he hurt your hands?” he asks quietly, eyes tracing the scars of his own left hand.

Neil shakes his head, inspecting the cuts on the backs so his knuckles and flexing his fingers experimentally. “I think I caused more damage than he did. But they’ll heal.”

Kevin nods, taking the information in. “I’m sorry you had to pay the price for both of us.”

“I’m not,” Neil says.

Kevin’s head snaps up and the two of them share a look. It’s a look that stretches years, from a time where they were too young to know what they were getting into to now, where they know far too much.

Kevin nods and Neil nods back and he knows that’s the last they’ll ever speak of Riko for now.

It takes almost an hour for everyone to get their fill of talking to him but they seem to get the hint that he’s tired. He can barely keep his eyes open by the time Aaron and Kevin are finally shuffling out of the room. The last thing Neil remembers before falling asleep is the feeling of Andrew’s hand in his.

* * *

 

When Neil wakes up again Matt is the person at his bedside. He smiles tiredly when he realises Neil is awake, immediately reaching for the cup of water still sitting on the bedside table and offering it to him.

“How are you feeling?” Matt asks after he’s replaced the water on the table.

“Like I’ve been stabbed twenty times.”

Matt looks like he doesn’t know whether he wants to laugh or grimace. In the end he just shakes his head in exasperation. “Well, your sarcasm is still working so that’s a good sign.”

Neil smiles sheepishly, looking away from Matt’s amused gaze.

“Hey,” Matt says softly, making Neil look up again. “I’m really glad you’re okay. It was pretty scary when we found you.”

“Who found me?” Andrew had also said “we” but he’d never specified.

“Andrew, Renee, Kevin and me,” he says. “And half the security in the building.”

Neil doesn’t want to ask the next question but he has to know. “What did you see?”

Matt’s expression drops, a frown etching into his features. “You were passed out. Riko was slashing at you like you were a doll. There was so much blood…” He trails off, a distant look in his eyes before refocusing on Neil. “I thought Andrew was going to kill him.”

“How didn’t he?” It’s something Neil’s been secretly wondering. Andrew looked close to murder at the Kathy Ferdinand show; he can’t imagine him exercising restraint when he walked in on _that_.

“He got close,” Matt reveals. “It took four of us to hold him back. But you know what happened after the incident with Nicky at the club, Neil. We couldn’t let him hurt Riko, it’d be the end of him. He’d go to jail for sure.”

“Thank you,” Neil murmurs, heart stuck in his throat at the thought of losing Andrew. “For not letting him go too far.”

Matt shrugs with a rueful smile. “Putting all my energy into holding him back meant no one had to hold _me_ back.”

Neil nods, still not used to the fierce protectiveness of his friends; “thank you” doesn’t seem like enough. Matt seems to be able to tell he’s struggling because he huffs a laugh and reaches out to ruffle Neil’s hair. “Get some more rest. Your boy will back by the time you wake up.”

Neil flushes, eyes dropping to the hospital blanket. “He’s not-“

“Yeah, yeah. Like I said, we settled the pot weeks ago.” With that, Matt winks at him and stands up from his chair.

Not sure how else to respond, Neil decides to sleep.

* * *

 

Andrew is back when Neil wakes up this time, curled up in the chair much like he had been the first time Neil found him, with his head pillowed on his arm. He’s absently clicking a pen with his free hand.

“Aren’t you bored?” Neil asks.

“You’re better company when you’re unconscious,” Andrew responds lightly.

Neil feels his mouth curving up in a genuine smile for the first time since he first woke up this afternoon. His eyes are drawn to Andrew’s hand at the sound at the clicking pen and he considers his own mostly bandaged arm for a moment before presenting it to Andrew.

Andrew stares at it impassively before lifting his gaze to Neil’s. “Not content with all the stab wounds? You need ink poisoning too?”

Neil bites back a laugh, shaking his arm slightly to make Andrew take it. “I’ll have to change the bandages tomorrow anyway. Indulge me.”

Andrew heaves a put upon sigh before sitting up straight. He holds Neil’s wrist in one hand to keep him in place and presses the tip of his pen to the top of the bandage with the other. Neil watches Andrew’s face mostly – the furrowed brow of concentration, the way his face changes when he pauses to think, the way his expression slips slightly every time he hesitates in what he’s writing. Neil catalogues every look and tries to commit it to memory.

Eventually he looks down at his arm and the scribbled mess of lyrics overlapping on his bandages. Every new word he reads makes his heart skip a beat.

_“With the exception of you I dislike everyone in the room.”_

_“Cause I want you so much but I hate your guts.”_

_“I act like I don’t fucking care.”_

_“And maybe you’re too good for me.”_

_"I’m wasted on you.”_

_“They think I’m insane, they think my lover is strange.”_

_“I wanna hold hands with you.”_

Neil falters at the last line. It’s something he’d written on Andrew’s hand during the flight, a random line that had popped into his head the longer he’d held Andrew’s hand in his. He looks at it now before slowly raising his head to meet Andrew’s stony gaze.

“I wrote that line,” he says quietly.

“I know,” Andrew replies. “I finished it.”

Neil’s eyes widen at the implication. “Where-“

“Not today, Abram,” Andrew sighs, dropping Neil’s hand and sitting back in his chair.

“Okay,” Neil accepts. “One last thing though.”

Andrew stares at him and Neil can see the guarded look in his eyes, can feel his agitation at getting too close to vulnerable.

“Kiss me?”

Andrew’s expression smooths out and he leans forward, lips brushing Neil’s in a gesture that’s so achingly soft Neil feels his chest tighten. Andrew releases him with one last peck, curling back up in his chair and resuming his position from earlier as if the last twenty minutes hadn’t happened.

Neil falls asleep with Andrew’s eyes staring into his and Andrew’s words written across his arm.

* * *

 

Neil gets discharged the next morning on Wymack’s watch. They have to sneak him out of the hospital since the press is still circling but they get him sequestered in Andrew’s apartment within an hour. He’s currently setting up camp on Andrew’s couch with an extra blanket from the linen closet and one of Andrew’s pillows under his head while Wymack and Abby give him a rundown of their plan for the next few weeks.

“We’re controlling the media right now and keeping quiet except to tell everyone that you’re safe and recovering,” Wymack says. “You can tweet a thank you to your fans for their well wishes if you want but otherwise stay off social media. The upside of all of this is that you’re on break for the next month before we leave for Europe; it’ll give you a chance to recover.

“I want to be clear, Neil,” Wymack says, serious expression etching frown lines in his forehead. “We are going to afford you the same amount of protection and privacy we did for Andrew when he went into and got out of Easthaven. You deserve to get better on your own terms, got it?”

Neil nods solemnly, pulling his blanket closer to his chest. The worst of the damage is on his torso but even under bandages, two layers of clothing and a comforter he still feels exposed.

Wymack regards him a moment longer before sighing wearily. “Look after yourself, okay kid? We’ll be checking in in a couple of days but for now, get some rest.”

“Yes, Wymack,” Neil replies quietly.

Wymack sighs once again, reaching out to squeeze Neil’s shoulder before stepping back to let Abby hug him. They leave not long after and Neil is left alone in the living room. It only takes a few seconds for the silence to feel suffocating but before he can do anything about it Andrew appears in the doorway.

Neil doesn’t notice the notebook in his hand until it’s being thrown into his lap. He picks it up uncertainly, turning it over in his hands as he inspects it but he can’t tell what it is. The outside is non-descript - simple, black and leather-bound. “What’s this?” he asks confusedly.

Andrew’s jaw works and he looks impatient at having to explain. “You wanted to see my songs.”

The notebook suddenly feels a lot heavier in Neil’s hands. He stares down at it in shock, struck with the realisation that he’s holding a piece of Andrew’s soul in his hand. All his thoughts and feelings that he keeps locked up tight inside of him, that he can’t voice or doesn’t understand, they’re all in here.

Neil doesn’t feel worthy enough to see them.

“Why are you giving this to me?” he asks, mystified.

He can tell Andrew is agitated, can see it in the tiny aborted movements, but eventually Andrew forces his expression into a smoothness Neil knows isn’t real. “I broke my promise,” Andrew answers finally.

Neil’s head shoots up in disbelief. Andrew can’t honestly think what happened with Riko is his fault- “No you didn’t,” he insists but he can tell even as he says it Andrew doesn’t believe him. “Andrew, _no you didn’t_. Riko’s the one to blame here and as far as I’m concerned he got his penance. This isn’t my fault and it’s not yours either. In case you’re forgetting, you’re the one who found me.”

“Because Jean warned Kevin-“

“And who else was quick enough to lose the thug Riko had following them?” Neil challenges. “If you hadn’t gotten to me as fast as you did who knows what would’ve happened?”

There’s a quiet fury in Andrew’s eyes but Neil knows it’s not directed at him. “I promised you I wouldn’t let him touch you.”

“And he won’t anymore,” Neil reminds him. His gaze is drawn back down to the notebook in his hands. He’s itching to read it, to take a peek inside Andrew’s head. But he won’t do it like this. He holds the book back out to Andrew, waiting for him to take it.

Andrew stares down at Neil’s outstretched hand with a blank expression. “You wanted-“

“Not like this,” Neil shakes his head. “I want to read your lyrics but only if you want me to. Not because you’re punishing yourself.”

An indeterminable length of time passes before Andrew’s face twists in frustration and he snatches the notebook back. Neil drops his head back against the pillow with a weary sigh and closes his eyes to the sound of Andrew’s footsteps leaving the room.

They keep to themselves for the afternoon. Andrew only comes into the living room to bring Neil dinner and make sure he hasn’t done something stupid like rip his stitches. He doesn’t talk to Neil in these moments, just checks that he’s okay before disappearing from the room again. Neil wants to help but he doesn’t know what to say to make things better. The war Andrew is fighting right now is an internal one. He’s blaming himself for Neil getting hurt and he hasn’t figured out how to reconcile that yet. All Neil can really do for now is wait him out.

It turns out he doesn’t have to wait for very long.

Andrew shows up in the living room again a few hours after dinner, changed into sweatpants and hoodie and looking for all the world like he’s about to go straight to bed. He comes to stand by Neil’s head, waiting until Neil gets the hint and stops doodling in his journal to look up.

“Come on.” Andrew beckons him up without further explanation but Neil is too startled at the fact Andrew is actually speaking to him to question it. He climbs up off the couch, moving at a slower pace than Andrew and keeping his hand to one of the larger gashes on his stomach as he makes his way through the apartment.

He’d never been to Andrew’s apartment before today. Neil had been staying with Kevin when they were stationed in LA before going on tour. It hadn’t made sense before to get his own place since this was supposed to only be a temporary thing. He should probably start house hunting now.

Andrew’s apartment is clean and impersonal but somehow still comfortable. Everything has a function yet it still feels lived in. What Neil is probably most surprised by is the pictures on the walls of the rest of The Monsters and The Upperclassmen, though he thinks they might be Nicky and Renee’s doing rather than Andrew’s.

He finds Andrew in what reveals to be a music room, sitting on a bench in front of a baby grand piano.

“I didn’t know you played,” Neil comments, making Andrew glance over his shoulder at him.

“Sometimes,” Andrew admits, obligingly scooting to the side so Neil can sit down beside him.

Neil brushes his fingers over the keys but doesn’t press down. Kevin had shown him the basics a long time ago but Neil had always been more taken with his guitar.

After a few minutes of silence, Andrew speaks. “I told you I finished the lyric.”

“Andrew, you don’t have to-“

Andrew cuts him off with a shake of his head. “Just- shut up.”

[Neil obediently](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WgiNVCDbzHc) closes his mouth, watching Andrew’s hands spread out across the keys. Neil doesn’t believe he’s actually about to start playing until his fingers press down and a note rings out, loud and clear in the quiet of the room.

 _“I wanna sleep next to you_  
_But that's all I wanna do right now_  
_And I wanna come home to you_  
_But home is just a room full of my safest sounds…”_

Neil stares at him in unabashed incredulity. He’s never heard Andrew sing like this. He’s never heard this raw vulnerability in Andrew’s voice before. His face for once isn’t hidden behind a mask of impassivity, Neil can _see_ him. He can see him letting himself feel.

It’s subtle, perhaps not noticeable to anyone else but Neil can’t look away, can’t tear his eyes away from the gentle bob of Andrew’s throat as he pauses between lyrics. Neil recognises the next line and he feels his breath catch at the quiet, almost confessional way Andrew sings it.

“ _I wanna hold hands with you  
But that's all I wanna do right now…”_

It prompts Neil to really listen to the lyrics, to hear the way Andrew is laying himself bare. He quietly takes note of every single “I want”, of everything Andrew is admitting to, and files them away for later. He wants to give Andrew everything. He wants to give him as much or as little as he needs. Neil doesn’t know how exactly to do that but he’s willing to spend as much time as he possibly can trying.

Andrew stutters over the next, “ _Come over now and talk me down_ ,” and Neil has to physically hold himself back from pulling him close. He’s never wanted to hold Andrew quite like he does right now. He’s never had such a burning need to try and pull him in and sew their bones together. He doesn’t though, for fear that touching Andrew might bring him out of this trance and make him stop playing.

Instead he waits patiently for Andrew to finish, feeling the remnants of his control slip away with every passing lyric. Andrew eyes slip closed as he sings the bridge and Neil can feel himself falling. Falling so, so far off everything he thought he once knew. It’s terrifying but also inevitable in a way. He thinks back to that first time he and Andrew locked eyes in a waiting room in South Carolina and somehow he’s not surprised they ended up here.

 _“But I wanna sleep next to you_  
_And I wanna come home to you_  
_I wanna hold hands with you_  
_I wanna be close to you…”_

By the time Andrew finishes the song his voice is hardly above a whisper, just loud enough to still carry the tune. Neil waits for his hands to still on the piano but Andrew doesn’t look at him once he’s done, just continues staring unseeingly at the music sheets.

Neil gives him a moment to collect himself before carefully lifting a hand and catching the underside of Andrew’s chin. He tilts Andrew’s head towards him, meeting his guarded eyes openly. “Thank you,” he whispers, awestruck. “You were amazing.”

Slowly, he flicks his eyes from Andrew’s wary gaze to his lips and then, ever so gently, he closes the gap between them. It’s the most precarious kiss they’ve ever shared, teetering on the precipice of something Neil thinks neither of them might be willing to admit to yet. But it’s enough for now.

It’s everything.

* * *

 

_+one month later_

Neil is standing in the first class departure lounge of LAX, staring out at their plane taxied out on the runway. He turns to look at Andrew beside him and feels anticipation thrumming in his veins. He’s nearly there. Two flights and about seventeen hours stand between him and the beginning of the European leg of the tour.

They’re starting in Portugal and Neil can hardly contain his excitement. He’s had cabin fever for the last month, holed up in Andrew’s apartment and miles away from any kind of stage. That’s not to say he didn’t put the time to good use; getting to spend alone time with Andrew in a space that was quiet and comfortable has been better than he could ever have possibly imagined and Neil has all but set up a bed in Andrew’s music room.

Still, the stage is calling to him and he’s ready to get back out there.

“Ready to do it all again?” he asks Andrew, trying for casual but the infectious grin on his face betrays him.

Andrew raises an eyebrow at him in derision. “Your enthusiasm is exhausting,” he complains.

Neil scoffs. “Don’t act like you’re not excited too.”

In answer, Andrew merely points to his expressionless face.

“Fine,” Neil sighs resignedly. “I’ll just be excited enough for the both of us.”

As they get closer to boarding Andrew becomes more fidgety beside him. He’s already started clicking his pen and Neil guesses the nerves have set in early since they’ll be flying for a grand total of about twelve hours today. He watches Andrew grow more and more restless until he decides enough is enough.

“Give me your pen.”

Andrew’s body stills and he slants a scowl in Neil’s direction. “Stop trying to deface my body.”

“Just a quick one before we board?” Neil says, attempting to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice. Writing on Andrew has been like therapy for the last month. It always serves to quiet them both when things get too loud.

Andrew stares at him for a moment’s deliberation before huffing and throwing the pen at Neil. It bounces off Neil’s chest and goes skittering to the floor but he picks it up before it can travel too far. He takes Andrew’s left hand in his then, turning it over so it’s palm up.

He only has one thing to write today. He’s been working on a song all month that Andrew’s heard snatches of whenever he’s sat in the room to watch Neil work but for the most part he hasn’t seen any kind of finished product.

Neil thinks about home and how it’s ever-changing and how the concept of it has become so tangled up with Andrew in the last couple of months he can’t tell one from the other anymore. He thinks about the feelings that neither of them really admit to but he knows with a bone-deep surety exist. It’s in every look and every touch and every lyric they pretend doesn’t mean anything.

With that in mind, he finishes the third verse on Andrew’s hand.

 _“We're not a commercial for anyone else_  
_We go out for coffee_  
_And keep it to ourselves_  
_We make little homes out of three-star hotels_  
_And I know what you're feeling_  
_'Cause I feel it as well.”_

Andrew has just enough time to read the words before Neil knots their fingers together and covers Andrew’s palm with his own. Andrew narrows his eyes at him, muttering out a quiet, “123%” before looking away and squeezing Neil’s hand.

Neil feels a smile overtake his face and he doesn’t try to hide it.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhhh oh my god i can't believe we're finally here??? I just want to say i'm shOCKED, firstly at myself because this is the longest thing I've ever written by a mile and i still can't believe i did it??? and secondly by the absolutely incredible response I've gotten to this fic. your comments mean more to me than I could ever put into words and I can't say thank you enough <33
> 
> major thank you to tina for letting me yell at her about this fic for the better part of a month, idk what i would've done without you <3
> 
> I sincerely hope this last chapter has lived up to the rest of the fic and please!! if you have any thoughts or question come hit me up on tumblr bc there are so many things I didn't get to include in this fic but I have so many ideas about and I'd love to share them!! whether it be playlists or side content (like nicky and erik's story) or scenes where you're interested in andrew's pov, i want to talk about it all!!!
> 
> with that in mind, if you _are_ looking for me on tumblr you can find me at [ littlespooneven](http://littlespooneven.tumblr.com/) :') also you can find the tumblr post for this fic [here](http://littlespooneven.tumblr.com/post/150419547082/and-well-be-running-chapter-3-pairing-neil/)


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